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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months

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High Hopes pt2

Cw: dealer!remus, weed, recreational smoking, food, mention of parental abuse, nightmares, fluff, friends to lovers

Wc: 8.7k

part one

✧ ✧ ✧

You and Remus don’t speak about the bed sharing accident till mid summer, when you and Marlene invite him and his friends to your annual cookout.

You’d asked months in advance to use your family cottage in the countryside for your party and despite every jab and snide remark your family had made in the months leading up to the event, you refused to retaliate and make them change their minds about loaning you the house.

“Make sure you tell everyone to bring swimsuits, Marl, the lake is gorgeous.”

You’d gone up to the house a day before everyone else, wanting to ensure that everything was clean and that you’d have enough room for everyone to have at most two people in a room.

“Lupin, looks like you’re gonna have to bring those swimmies anyway!” you hear her yell to Remus who’s currently under packing by the sounds of it.

“Tell him he has to! Everyone has to go swimming ‘cause there’s a boat that takes you to the best part of the lake.” You say down the phone as you slide the last case of sodas into the fridge.

“I can hear you just fine, pretty girl. I’m not doing anything mad with you lot, you and Marlene are chaotic enough when you’re together.”

Marlene snickers and wishes you goodbye before you can even try to defend your mentality when you and Marlene meet in one room.

As the day drones on, you organise the firewood in a pile near the pit, thin blankets on the sofa as well as the beds, and you even make a couple burritos for breakfast in the morning.

As you go about your skincare, your phone rings and your body tenses. With one hand on your face, you take a peek at your phone and let out a breathy sigh at ‘Moony’ flashing on the screen with a video call.

“You’re there by yourself?” he asks as soon as you answer, taking a little time to prop your phone up on the sink as you rub your serum into your face.

“Mhm, I’m a big girl Remus, ‘ve locked the doors already and everything.” He knows you’re teasing him, and though you’ve got a playful smile, he frowns. He’s not a major fan of you being there by yourself.

“I know you are, s’just far.” you let out a giggle as you take a look at his worried face.

“Promise I’m safe Rem. The house has an alarm.” you placate him anyway, and take him through the virtual motions of your nighttime skincare routine.

“Do you want me to come there earlier?” he asks as you put everything back into your makeup bag.

“Remus,” you laugh and watch as he smiles. “You’re bringing Sirius, James, Lily, and Marlene. You can’t come up earlier.”

Remus scoffs and shows the floor where Sirius and Marlene are sleeping.

“James and Lils are down the hall, I can make them get up earlier to be there at like eight.”

You shake your head. The way your heart warms at his worry for you and his insistence that he wants to be there earlier is instantaneous and unstoppable.

“You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

Remus gives you a small smile, one you’ve learnt is actually a big smile in Remus’ books- but says nothing.

“Do you want me to bring brownies or cookies? ‘Ve got both, but I’m pretty sure Sirius and James have had from the brownies.”

He rolls his neck and then his shoulder as he waits for your response and you watch a small frown play on his lips.

You slide on your glasses and hum, “Maybe cookies, especially if they’re oatmeal raisin.”

Remus nods, a little bewitched as he watches you putting on a lip mask. He saw you in your glasses a couple days after Marlene’s party, when he dropped off your shoes and took back his sweater, even after insisting you keep it.

He couldn’t help but think that you were even more gorgeous with the wide framed glasses than you are with your contacts then, and now he thinks the exact same thing- especially with your bunny pyjamas.

“I’ll keep that in mind, pretty girl.” Remus watches you crawl under your sheets and tries not to look creepy, but it’s intimate and he feels like you’re both a couple, rather than a couple of friends.

“G’night Rem,” you yawn, face tucked into something Remus can’t quite make out in the dark room.

“G’night pretty girl,” Remus waits till you’re asleep to hang up and when he does, his head falls into his pillow with a sigh.

The next morning, you’re reheating your burritos on a comal when Marlene texts you that they’re thirty minutes away and starving.

You laugh at the picture she sends you of James and Lily occupying most of the space in the backseat asleep while she’s squished to the door.

By the time you’re opening all the doors, and going out to water some of your plants, you see Remus’ car pulling up the driveway.

You’re still in your pyjamas, bunnies covering your pants and tank top and your glasses are still on but you can’t really find it in you to care.

“Bubbles! Are you putting on a show for me?” Marlene screeches as she practically jumps out of the car and pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Oh yeah, are you aroused?” you laugh as you set down the watering can.

“Mhm, extremely.”

Remus joins you after and you give him a small smile as his hand reaches to brush your lower back.

“G’morning,” he whispers, voice raspy like he’s just smoked. “Cute pyjamas.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

“Angel, this is a pretty sweet place!” Sirius gives you a side hug and drops a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks Sirius,”

You greet James and Lily who seem upset they’re awake so early but they manage to give you a smile. “There’s breakfast on the counter.” Everyone besides Remus rushes into the house.

“Babe you’re the best!” you hear Marlene shout and you smile.

“You’re not hungry, Lupin?”

He shakes his head, “Not till you’re going to have something.”

You feel your heart gallop at the ease with which he says the words and you try hard to keep those feelings from rising up to your face.

“Fine, but there’s lots of flowers to water.” it takes you all of ten minutes and you make it back in the house in time to get the last burrito.

“We can share,” you say to Remus who’s halfway to protesting when Marlene kicks his shin.

You’re cutting the burrito in half when she mouths, ‘Share with her.’

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” he says instead of, ‘No, y’can have it,’ like he’d wanted to. Your bright smile as he accepts it makes eating at eight in the morning not seem like a strange thing. Especially when you opt for sitting next to him at the breakfast nook.

Your thigh presses into his, elbows brushing every time you shift. It’s weird in the way that it comforts you- you’ve known him for less than a month and you’ve slept in the same bed and become intertwined in each other’s routines, and when he’s this close you’re just a regular girl, with no issues at home.

Marlene leaves first and before you can ask her she says, “I’m gonna set the kettle on,”

You give her a smile and blow a kiss that makes Sirius pout.

Remus barely conceals his smirk at his best friend’s obvious attraction to Marlene.

“Did you bring your mug?” she asks and Remus turns away from Sirius to look towards the kitchen.

“I did, s’in the cupboard.”

He turns to you and raises an eyebrow.

“What mug?”

You set your half eaten burrito down and jerk your chin to where Marlene is holding the mug that resembles a dinosaur.

“It’s not good by any means, but I love him.”

Marlene runs to her bag to pull out another dinosaur mug that leaves Sirius pouting even harder.

“Where was I when this mug making trip was taken, hm?” he asks, James and Remus roll their eyes and you swear they mutter, “Brat,” but don’t say anything.

Marlene responds to him, “Probably riding your motorcycle to the hairdressers? You weren’t hanging out with us Siri- it’s a me and Bubbles thing.”

Marlene blows you a kiss this time that Sirius reaches across the table to ‘snatch’ before it reaches you.

“You’re a lot more jealous than I thought you’d be,” you say gently to Sirius who flushes a little pink.

“M’not.” but his voice goes up an octave as he says it.

“There’s more mugs in the cupboards over the stove if anyone else wants tea.” you say, turning to Lily who’s just a little bit quiet.

“You can go upstairs and take a nap if you need to,” she gives you a gentle smile and yawns before she can say thank you.

When Marlene comes round with your tea, James and Lily are heading upstairs to get a bit more hours in and Sirius is taking Marlene back outside under the guise of, ‘getting a feel for the land’ but you’re pretty sure he just wants to love on her.

Again you’re left with Remus and you don’t mind it one bit.

“When’s the next mug making trip?” he asks as you take a sip of tea and relax against him.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re jealous too, Lupin.”

He only shakes his head, “Of Marls? No, I just want to have a mug with that much,” he pauses as he searches for the right word while he looks at your very deformed bright purple dinosaur with green spots. “character.” is what he settles on.

“That’s an interesting word choice,” you take another sip. “Maybe when we get back to the city.”

Remus’ll take that any day.

“What’s the first order of business?” he asks and you turn to him,

“Grocery run, I didn’t know what everyone ate or didn’t eat so I didn’t want to get anything more than stuff for breakfast.”

Remus nods, his hand falling to your hips to pull you a little closer. His thumb rubs the exposed skin there from where your shirt has rode up as you finish your tea.

“We can go and come back, pretty sure James is snoring and Sirius,” he pauses and you laugh. “Sirius is distracted.”

“I’ve gotta shower first though.” Remus doesn’t seem to mind the implied wait.

“So I’ll watch a film,” it’s how sincere he sounds when he says things like that that causes your heart rate to pick up. “Seriously, pretty girl. Go shower, do your hair, whatever you want to. I’ll wait.”

Remus only has to wait a half hour before you come back down to the living room and he thinks you’re as beautiful as ever when he sees you.

You’re in a pair of white washed overalls and a cute top underneath that has flowers embroidered on the sleeves and your hair is down.

“M’ready,” you say as you shove your feet into a pair of sneakers and Remus stands.

“I took everyone’s snack orders and I think Sirius and Marlene are gonna be sunburnt by the time we get back.”

You’re confused as to what he means till you walk outside and spot them sleeping on the porch’s swing set.

“Maybe the sun will have pity on them.” You doubt it will.

Remus insists on letting you sit in the trolley as you shop, “Someone has to sit, usually it’s Sirius,” he explains as he helps you into the trolley, “but someone has to.”

Ten minutes into being carted around, you come to realise you love it.

You’re sitting in the basket, grabbing bags of crisps, chocolates and two sacks of flour that make Remus raise his eyebrow.

“I’m making dinner,” you say and Remus shakes his head.

“This is supposed to be a vacation; for everyone.” There’s a hidden meaning behind that but you choose not to dwell on Remus’ kind words.

“But I was gonna make a steak and ale pie,” you say as you reach for a tin of vanilla sugar. “And vanilla buns for dessert.”

“That’s all, pretty girl. I want you to relax too, you don’t have to cook for us all weekend.”

“But I like doing it,” you try to argue but Remus stands firm.

“Tonight only, I’ll make breakfast tomorrow.”

“What about dinner tomorrow night?” you ask with a mischievous glint in your eyes and Remus scoffs but it sounds more like a chuckle.

“We’ll figure that out then,” he puts an extra crate of eggs beside you and sneaks a small tub of vanilla extract too.

Remus pays before you can swipe your card and levels you with a look that says, ‘too slow,’ but it also makes your belly swim with something else.

All your friends always leave you to pick up the tab when you go out and while you don’t mind, you can’t remember the last time someone even offered to pay for a meal for you - even on a date.

By the time dinner’s ready, you’re all a little buzzed on beer and have all ‘sampled’ a bun before dinner.

Dinner with your new friends is different to how it is at home. Everyone talks, shares odd stories and makes jokes. There’s no tense silence, no awkward questions to try to lead into conversation- just genuine conversation that makes your heart swell a little.

“Movie night?” Marls asks as Remus and James wash the dishes- they both insisted after you cooked.

“What do you usually watch?” Lily asks and Marlene smiles. She’s the one that came up with this movie rotation all those years ago.

“Horror, comedy and then animation,” she says excitedly, “We haven’t made it to animation in years though, someone falls asleep halfway through the comedy.” She looks pointedly at you and Sirius and Lily’s eyes follow.

“She always chooses ‘The Hangover.’ We've seen it too many times now.”

“Well, we can’t have that. Lily you choose the comedy this time,” Sirius says and you nod pointing to the tv.

“There’s some stuff on dvd there and I think we’ve got the streaming set up already.”

You leave for another shower while they decide, changing into your pyjamas and slipping into your bunny bedroom slippers.

“What did you guys choose?” you ask as you sit beside a freshly showered Remus- his hair is damp and he smells like oranges.

“Insidious, Grown ups and Monsters Inc.” James says, sliding the first dvd in while Marlene comes back in with three bowls of popcorn.

“Monsters Inc?” you murmur, hands wringing in your lap as Remus accepts the bowl. He’s sporting a frown as your hands seem to be wrung to all hell.

“Yeah, haven’t seen it in years.” Marls says and you nod, plastering a smile on your face as you take a couple kernels of popcorn.

“You okay?” Remus whispers and you nod, stuffing your mouth so you don’t say anything out of turn.

All through the horror, he can tell you’re on edge from more than just fear. It gets worse when everyone is wide awake during the comedy.

“I’m gonna put the kettle on, anyone want anything?” You ask, twisting the joints of your fingers to crack them.

Marlene looks at you funny, leans her head off the sofa and mouths, ‘You okay?’ To which you nod.

She frowns but you only glare back and she drops it.

There’s a chorus of requests that you mutter to yourself all the while to the kitchen- James wants another bun, Lily a cup of tea, Sirius wants his gummy bears, Marls wants Swedish fish and Remus wants nothing so you’re bringing him a cup of tea as well.

You’re not alone for three minutes before Remus joins you.

He looks tired, like the day’s drive has worn him down, but he grants you a smile anyhow.

“Came to help you,” you doubt that’s the only reason he’s in the kitchen- you’re not good at keeping your emotions off your face it seems.

“You’re missing the movie,” you point out just as the kettle whistles.

Remus shrugs and takes to pouring water over the tea bag in your cup and two others. “Sugar?” He asks, looking up at you to find you sitting on the counter, swinging your legs as you dip your hand in the bag of Swedish fish.

“Two please,” but your voice is anything but regular.

“I’ll be two minutes,” Remus promises as he takes everything back to the living room.

You’re alone with your thoughts for a little, reminiscing on when you were a kid and you used to come here with your parents.

You’re so deep in thought you don’t notice Remus is back till he’s standing right between your legs.

“What’s eating you?” He asks softly, hands on the counter right beside your thighs.

You shrug, not sure how much is the right amount to share.

There’s not much in terms of ‘loyalty’ between you and your family, but it feels wrong to speak ill of them because sometimes they’re not bad- sometimes they’re the best people ever, and then they ruin it by being mean for months.

“Pretty girl,” Remus’ tone is still patient, still soothing and you make up your mind quickly.

“Can I tell you after the movies? I’ll show you the lake too.”

Remus studies you for a moment, hazel eyes scanning your face intensely before he relents.

“Only if you’ll wear a sweater,”

By the time Monsters Inc is on, you’re clenching your fists under your butt and forcing yourself to at least look like you’re paying attention.

“I haven’t seen this in forever!” Marlene says excitedly, and you smile, a fake one but it’s soft enough that she doesn’t question it.

“Neither have I,” you say back, Lily making comments of it being her childhood favourite falls on deaf, buzzing ears as Boo attaches herself to Sully.

Your mood only gets worse and about three quarters way through, Remus can’t bear to see your mixed emotions any longer and guides your head to his chest.

“Just pretend you’re asleep, dove.” He whispers and you close your eyes. If he feels tears wetting his shirt when Mr. Waternews is found out and Sully and Mike realise who they’re working for, Remus doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t say anything when the tears become worse when Sully and Mike remake Boo’s door and say goodbye to her; he just wipes them away as discreetly as he can.

Your friends file off to bed shortly after the movie ends and a quick clean up, but you’re not so lucky. You’d promised Remus a talk and a tour, and honestly, you need it.

“C’mon,” you gesture for Remus to follow you after he gives you his sweater, and you slip into your shoes.

“Here,” he hands you a fresh cup of tea as he opens the door for you.

Remus embraces the silence of the first few steps and waits you out until you sigh.

“We used to come here, for the summer back when it was just me, my mum and my dad,” the words hang there, only the wind touches it as you consider what else you should say.

“It used to be fun, we’d go out on the boat, and have a bonfire and go out on the lake- it’s where this whole tradition started actually,”

You hazard a glance at Remus and find him looking at you carefully.

“I haven’t watched Monsters Inc, since the last time we came here.”

Remus sighs, “How old were you then?”

You take a sip of your tea, “I think six? Maybe seven,” he blows a breath. “I’ve tried watching it on my own after, but it was always me and my dad’s show. It was our thing, I was Boo, he was Sully- but then, I don’t know what happened if I’m honest.”

Your eyes shine with tears in the moonlight as you lead Remus to the dock.

You sit and pull your knees up to your chest, the hem of Remus’s sweater covering your shins as you lay your cheek on your knees.

“We used to be really close and now I think he wishes he’d never had kids. Especially if we try doing or saying things he doesn’t agree with.”

Remus tugs you close to his side when the first tear falls, his hand on your shoulder as he squeezes you close.

“From what little I’ve seen, he seems… intense.” Is the word Remus goes for, and you can tell it’s to be polite.

You nod, “You can’t put a hair out of place with him- it’s practically a cardinal rule to always be perfect.”

Remus sighs, “That’s an unattainable goal, perfection.”

You shrug as you rough up your cheeks to rid them of tears. “I don’t think he really cares, and then sometimes,” you pause, not sure if you should or even can get the words out to tell Remus.

“You don’t have to say more, pretty girl. I get what you mean to say.”

Remus doesn’t ask anything else or anything of you and it’s refreshing to get to put down all the pretending and the chipper, and the unwavering happiness and just be.

“He’s just a lot and it’s hard to know which version of him you’re gonna get.”

Remus rubs your shoulder and your arm, “I’m sorry, dove.”

You stay out till your tea goes cold and you’re yawning so much Remus is laughing softly every time.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, precious girl.” Your belly swims at the nickname, only Remus seems to shower you in them- outside of Marls.

“Will you stay with me again? You don’t have to, there’s a room for everyone if you’d prefer to sleep on your own.”

Remus would’ve said yes even if you didn’t look so shy and sleepy and if you didn’t wear his sweater like it was something commonplace- though he figured if you wore it once more, that it would be a habit he would be insanely fond of.

“I’ll stay with you, lead the way.”

You wake up in a tangle of limbs and your face tucked neatly away in Remus’ neck. He somehow smells better now, a mix of your laundry detergent, his orange soap and sleep.

He’s also warm in a way that makes you cosy up even closer to him.

“Stop moving, pretty girl,” Remus’ voice is gravelly and raspy, his arms lock around you a little tighter as he holds you still.

“Sorry,” you murmur, a yawn ripping apart the apology. “Did you sleep okay? I didn’t move too much?”

Remus shakes his head and stretches, his limbs cracking as he does so.

“Slept great. You were still as anything,” he finally opens his eyes, the usually hazel eyes seem more honeyed and warm in the morning light. “Come closer, you’re warm.” He says and you chuckle.

“I usually get told I run cold,” Remus shakes his head and tugs you closer by your waist.

“You’re toasty,” you both just lay in silence as you allow yourselves to wake up slowly.

You hear noises around the house as everyone else wakes up and you sigh.

“Time to get a move on, Remmy.”

He groans, “Can’t they entertain themselves?”

You laugh, “They could, but I’m hungry.”

Remus gets out of bed with no complaints and gets ready for the day before heading downstairs before you.

“Favourite type of pancake?” He asks and you hum, your steps aligning as you descend into the kitchen.

“Can you do the one with the sprinkles mixed in?” Remus nods, and sets about getting the ingredients while everyone else busy themselves with cups of tea.

Remus makes yours for you, exactly like you like it, and Marlene eyes you over her cup of tea.

“Bubbles, c’mere a second?” She motions you both out the door and Remus and Sirius watch you both curiously while James and Lily cuddle up on the sofa.

When you’re outside and at the flowers, she fills the watering can and squeals, “What’s going on with you and Moony?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes as you take the full watering can and start watering the plants.

“Nothing’s going on,” you say- which might be true. It also might not be true, because something is definitely going on; you’re friends but you feel like a little more than friends. Like you’re in the liminal space between friends and more than friends.

“Oh yeah? So you’re just wearing his sweater and he’s spent the night in your room?”

You fail to hide your smile at her question and she laughs maniacally.

“I knew it!”

You stop her before she can get ahead of herself, “Nothing’s happened, we’ve just been talking and getting to know each other,”

“In all the ways.” Marlene’s eyebrows dance at her statement and you shake your head- mostly to dispel heat from your face.

“No, I asked him to spend the night in my room. He said yes, there was nothing else.”

Her eyes narrow, “No ‘good morning’ cuddles or kisses? You know you’re the only one with cute nicknames from him?”

You scoff, Marlene rolls her eyes, “‘Pretty girl’, ‘dove’, you’ve noticed only you get such nice names from Remus? He’s not exactly as forthcoming with it to anyone else.”

You ponder it for a while, sipping the remainder of your tea as you water the last plant.

“I like that he listens and he’s easy to talk to. And I feel like myself- like there’s no pretending when I’m with him, but I’ve also known him for maybe four months at best.”

Marlene touches your shoulder, “It’s not like you to go all in all at once, and that’s okay. Just don’t rush to label four months as not enough time- if you like him, and you think he likes you; I know for certain he does, but I know you need to know it too, then let it flow yeah? What’s the worst that could happen if you just see where it goes?”

Before you can answer her, Remus comes looking for you out the front door, “Breakfast’s ready, dove. Come eat before it gets cold,” he says softly, “You too Marls, before Siri passes away at the fact that you’ve been gone twenty minutes.”

She sends you a pointed look as he goes inside, calling out to Sirius.

“What’s that look for?” He asks as he takes your empty cup from you.

“Marlene’s scheming,” you say with a smile and Remus groans.

“Please nothing like her schemes that involve jumping into pools drunk again.”

You have breakfast right beside Remus, like the day before- thighs pressed together as you eat.

He doesn’t have his own plate so you divide your stack between the two of you- which he only has a couple pieces of.

“Remus you’re having breakfast?” Sirius asks pointedly and you frown.

“Does he usually not?”

James shakes his head, “Mostly toast and coffee. Or clotted cream and scones when he can manage it- never really has an appetite in the morning, our Moony.”

You look aghast as you turn to Remus who looks sheepish.

“You could’ve said something! And here I’ve been feeding you breakfast without a single thought.”

Lily and Marlene smirk at your concern and the boys roll their eyes at Remus’ bashfulness.

“S’fine, I wouldn’t have eaten if I wasn’t feeling for breakfast.” A lie. Remus would eat at whatever time you were sharing food with him. It wouldn’t matter if he’d just come back from having lunch himself.

“Now I feel like I’ve forced you into having breakfast,” you say softly and Remus kicks the shins of both the boys and glares at them.

“None o’that,” he says equally as soft, still glaring at his friends who can’t help but smile at your reaction.

Sirius and James ruin the sweet moment by miming a kiss to Remus while you’re not looking and then getting kicked again which makes them groan.

“Are we going onto the lake today?” Lily asks to change the conversation and it works perfectly.

You delve into quick, animated conversation about what your supposed plan is- pack a picnic basket full of sandwiches, some drinks (alcoholic and nonalcoholic), a pavlova (that makes Remus raise his eyebrow- a silent conversation passing through you both, you wave him off) and then head to the dock and get on the boat and find a nice spot to swim.

Remus helps you with the pavlova, cutting the fruit and making the whipped cream while you set it in the oven to bake.

“What kind of sandwiches did you want, dove?” You put the last of the dishes in the drying rack as you turn to find Remus getting the bread, condiments and toppings on the counter.

“Whatever you guys like. I just need one cucumber sandwich and one with tomatoes, meat, cheese and crisps.”

Remus nods and gets started, when you reach for the cling wrap he tuts.

“Go get dressed, I can do it by myself.”

“How rude would that be? I’m the host.” Remus sets the knife down after he cuts the sandwiches in halves.

“Pretty girl,” he traps you between the counter and himself. Your chests pressed together. “I told you in the shops, you’re not cooking for us all weekend. It’s a vacation for you too- go get dressed, do whatever you need to do, and then come back down when you’re done and ready to go, yeah?”

His eyes remain glued to yours, the intensity of his soft words bleeding into your veins and replacing your blood as it starts racing through you.

You narrow your eyes still, “Has anyone ever called you ‘bossy’ before?” You ask but still make your way to the steps.

“Your cookies are on your dresser, have a whole one if you like.” He says as you retreat, chuckling when you squeal happily.

James finds Remus stocking the picnic basket and approaches him with a smirk.

“You like ‘er don’t you, Moons?”

Remus frowns, “I’d like it if you and Pads didn’t mouth off about me not liking breakfast and making her feel bad.”

James whistles lowly. “Sorry ‘bout that. But you do, don’t you? Like her I mean.”

Remus sighs, “Yes, I suspect I do. It’s becoming a little more than like rather quickly though.”

James shrugs and steals a crisp from the half done packet. “S’nothing wrong with that. Told Lils I loved her like a month into dating- best decision I ever made.”

Remus wants to go back and forth with James about the differences between you and Lily, and then he realises, he really can’t.

No one besides him, and probably Marlene, knows the situation of your home and how that factors into things- he’s better waiting it out.

Remus finds waiting it out might be extremely difficult when you come down in a sunshine yellow and orange bikini top and a pair of Jean shorts that reveal a naval piercing and a set of waist beads that compliment your skin perfectly.

Your hair is up in a claw clip, some pieces out and framing your face and your glasses are replaced with shades. You’ve forgone all your jewellery, but you still look stunning.

His heart stops for a second when he catches the scent of your toffee butter perfume.

“You look like a sunrise,” is the first thing out his mouth and you giggle. A tinkling, windchime-ish sound that lights your entire face.

“Thank you, Remus. I’ll set everything in the boat while you go get ready, thank you for packing the basket.”

James watches the exchange silently, more and more he finds the evidence that you and Remus are falling for each other to be extremely obvious.

Remus leaves with a kiss to your forehead and it takes all your self control not to touch your hairline as you pick up the basket.

“James, do you want to be our captain for the day?” You ask as you open the sliding door.

“Oh of course! Lead the way and I’ll take over the helm immediately.”

The moment you anchor the boat, you’re all diving in- except Remus who sits with his legs dangled in.

“Maybe when the sun starts getting a little lower,” he had said and you didn’t want to force him to do another thing. Remus was much more content to sit and stare at you swimming and having a water fight with Marlene as he drank one of the beers from the cooler.

After about an hour of roughhousing, you paddle over to his legs and climb up beside him.

Dripping wet, you reach for a peach iced tea and one half of the sandwich with crisps and take a bite.

“Want your towel?” Remus asks as he notices gooseflesh erupt on your arms and legs.

“No thanks, don’t wanna get it sopping wet before it’s time to leave.”

You take another bite when Remus says, “I’d just give you mine, dove.”

It makes your heart sink and soar at the same time- the way he proposes going without just so you’d be comfortable. It makes you think of the way he’d been having breakfast just because you shared with him.

No one’s ever been so nice, without expectations before.

“You’re sweet Remus, but I’m okay,” you lay your head on his shoulder as you finish off the sandwich and take a sip of your drink.

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asks softly, eyes on your friends as they start a swim race.

“Yeah, course.”

Remus takes a moment to collect his thoughts, takes a moment to choose his words carefully.

“Why doesn’t Marlene know anything?” It’s been something running laps in his kind since his conversation with James in the kitchen.

Your breath hitches and Remus is about to apologise when you start explaining, “She knows some stuff. Like the stuff about me and my family not having a good relationship- she’s seen some of the fights,”

You take another sip, “But I’ve been careful not to have any visible bruises when I’m with her. It’s hard to explain,” you take a deep breath before saying, “And it’s a little embarrassing to have your dad still being abusive to you after being a kid.”

Remus nods, saying nothing for a while and then, “I hope you know it’s not a reflection of yourself and you shouldn’t be embarrassed by his actions.”

You don’t go back out in the water after that, instead you lay on the boat’s floor with Remus with your toes dipped into the water.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Remus?”

Your voice is soft, your hands occupied with tracing the silvery lines of his scars that race up his arms.

“Anything,” he says earnestly.

“What are your parents like?” He smiles, an image of his mum already in his mind.

“My mum’s like me, quiet, shy, a massive reader. She’s very gentle too- I don’t think Hope has a mean bone in her body. She’s a big baker like you are, she’d love spending all day in the kitchen.”

You smile unconsciously, she sounds like Remus. “She’s also very fiercely protective of whoever she loves. It’s like pack animal loyalty with ‘er.”

“She sounds like you,” you say quietly, turning to look at him and finding Remus eyes laying on you already. “Gentle and kind; very warm.”

“Alright lovers, cut the pavlova and let’s crack some beers.” Sirius hollars as he boards the boat again, his wet hands reaching for his towel as he scrubs his hair roughly.

“You have such a way with words, Black.” Lily says sarcastically as she helps you take the pavlova out and dress it up with the cream and fruit.

You all eat your bellies full on the boat, the pavlova and sandwiches done just as the sun begins to set.

There’s a lethargy that engulfs the boat as you take the helm for the return trip.

“James it’s fine, you’re more tired than I am,” You say to him, his eyes are barely open and that reminds you that you haven’t had your cookie yet. “Remus, can you get me the cookie from the basket? I forgot to take it when we got here.”

“The edible?” He asks as he retrieves it from the picnic basket anyways.

“Mhm! Thank you,” you reach for it with one hand as the other is glued to the steering wheel of the boat as you turn it around.

“M’not giving it to you while you operate a vehicle.” Remus says as he holds it closer to him.

“Remus, it’s a ten minute boat drive back to the dock.”

He shrugs, “Wait ten minutes then, these are strong.”

You frown, grumbling under your breath at his strictness. “You’re so stern and strict.” He hears you say it and smiles.

“Yup, but I’ll make you a deal- you can have it if you let me drive,” you shake your head.

“You’ve already done enough for today,” Remus rolls his eyes.

“I’m also the only one of us that didn’t swim today,” you falter then.

“Come over here and take it so I can drive,” he says but you shake your head again.

Remus decides he’d rather use intense flirtation tactics to get you to sit and have your cookie and continue relaxing.

His hand reaches for your exposed waist, his fingers stroking your skin there and then slipping under the waist beads.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Pretty girl,” he starts lowly, voice much more raspy than usual. The way he stares so intently at you makes your belly erupt in butterflies. “Come sit over here and have your cookie so I can drive us back, hm?”

Your friends watch you both with rapt attention, whispers of the two of you ‘fighting like an old couple’ lost between the heat of his actions and the thrumming under your skin from his attention.

The calluses on his fingers tickle your skin softly, more gooseflesh raising on your skin as you stop the boat and get lost in his touch.

“Remus,” you mumble, your resolve already crumpled to nothing. “You play dirty,” you say quietly as you switch places with him and receive your cookie with a dazzling Remus Lupin smile- which is just a quiet smile that shows his teeth.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

You finish your cookie and your bottle of water just as Remus docks, your friends filing off the boat with their arms full of things as they go to the showers- all of you too tired for any other activities.

“You good to be by yourself for twenty minutes, dove?” Remus asks as he helps you dismount from the boat.

Your eyes are already droopy, your movements more sluggish than normal.

“Yeah, I’m gonna shower and wash my hair and go to sleep.” You slur some of the words, your tongue too heavy for how fast you want to speak.

“Sleeping by yourself tonight?” Remus asks kindly, closing the door behind you and locking up before you set the alarm.

“Um,” you start, stretching as you make your way to the stairs, “Would you mind staying? I like sleeping next to you.” Remus feels his stomach knot at the confession.

Your high allows your tongue a little freedom, “When you’re there I don’t have nightmares.”

“Is that why you asked if you’d moved a lot?”

You nod, a timidity to you. “Yeah, I usually wake up super anxious or with a massive adrenaline rush that takes ages to wane.” Then as if you’ve only just remembered, “But you can sleep in your room if you want an entire bed to yourself.”

Remus coos, “I’ll share a bed with you again, princess.”

You wrinkle your nose at the nickname and Remus laughs, walking behind you as you climb the stairs.

“What?” He asks as you open your bedroom door.

“That feels like such a pretentious nickname,” you admit and Remus shakes his head.

“What if that’s what I think of you? That you’re regal enough to be a princess?”

You scowl, “I prefer pretty girl,” you say softly as you lay out your pyjamas on your bed.

“You like the reinforcement of the truth?” He teases and you groan, rubbing your face as Remus laughs.

“Go shower Remus, you’re too much right now.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re putting away your blow dryer as Marlene opens your bedroom door.

“You okay?” You ask her as she climbs into your bed.

“I’m perfect, Bubbles. Want you to do me a favour, though.”

You raise your eyebrows as you smooth oil through your hair. “What kind of favour?”

Marlene approaches you, kisses your forehead and whispers, “Let yourself fall for him. He takes care of you, you let yourself smile for real when he’s around. Four months don’t mean a thing.”

She leaves just as Remus opens the door and he frowns.

“Did I interrupt something?” He asks gently, ready to call Marlene back and swap with her so you two can chat more and he’d stay with Sirius.

“Nope, everything’s perfect. Except for the fact that I’m not asleep yet, I’m beat.”

Remus shakes his head as he shuts your door, climbing into the bed beside you.

“Oh are you?” You nod, oblivious to his teasing as you scoot closer to him.

“So tired. I think tomorrow we’re going to start lunch late so I can sleep in some more.”

Remus lays still as you get comfortable, laying your head on his chest and draping an arm over his stomach. “Sleep as long as you need, dove. The boys and I can cover the bar-b-que.” He has just enough time to plant a kiss to the bridge of your nose before you’re asleep. Remus can’t help but sigh and squeeze you a little tighter to him as he relaxes under you.

The next morning you’re not awoken by the sun in your eyes or by Remus moving under you. Instead, it’s the rain beating down on the roof that rouses you from sleep.

Remus isn’t under you, you’re alone in bed but the spot where he’d been laying all night is still warm and sunken- as if he’s just left.

Groggily, you pull your hair back and out of your face, move through your morning routine and trudge down the steps as you fit your glasses on your face.

“Morning,” you say to Marlene as you pass her by the breakfast nook, making your way immediately for a glass of water.

“How’d you sleep?” She asks with a girn.

“Good, till the rain.”

She nods, Lily and James coming downstairs shortly after, “This puts soup on the menu instead of bar-b-que?” James asks and you shrug.

“If you guys want that we can do it instead, I’d probably just need to run to the store and get the vegetables we might not have.”

Putting on the kettle you look around and find Sirius and Remus missing.

“Where’s your lover boy?” You ask Marlene as you toss two tea bags into your mug.

“Same place as yours,” she teases. “They’ve been hotboxing Remus’ car for the last half hour.”

You shake your head with a smile, “What’re we doing about breakfast?”

Marlene and James exclaim at the same time, “Breakfast hash!”

You and Lily look at each other, “Londoners.” She says teasingly and James flushes, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips before joining Marlene in getting the potatoes, eggs and sausages for the hash.

Remus and Sirius appear just as breakfast is done, their shoulders and hair wet from the rain as the walk into the kitchen.

Remus hangs over your shoulder, his cheek nuzzling into yours. The wet tips of his hair draw messy lines of water down your neck.

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you got up.” He whispers, you smile.

“S’okay, how was your smoke?”

“Good, need a shower though. S’all stuck to my clothes.”

Remus goes and comes back in ten minutes, smelling more citrusy and minty as he comes to sit beside you.

You don’t share half your breakfast with him as you eat, and he frowns. With a not so stealthy hand, he steals a potato wedge.

“There’s still some in the pot,” James tells him but he doesn’t get up.

Instead, he continues stealing off your plate with a smirk. When you’ve finished, he takes your plate and fills it again, this time sharing with you.

“You finish it,” you say to Remus, leaning your head on his arm as he eats.

The rest of your friends watch silently, eyes a little wide at how seamlessly you and Remus seem to be moving with one another.

“What kind of soup did you want to make, James?” You ask, directing your attention to him as he stacks Lily’s plate in his.

“Something hearty,” Sirius says, his own head presses against Marlene’s chest. “I want something hearty. Like beef soup.”

James chuckles and you smile, “Beef soup then,” he says and you nod.

“I’ll probably have to get carrots, some more potatoes and the beef then.”

Remus hums, “I’ll go with you, can’t be driving in this weather.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve just smoked, Remus. You’re not driving anywhere,” you turn to Marlene, “Wanna go with me? Lily you too?”

The girls nod immediately and you all rush to go get ready, leaving the boys at home to entertain themselves.

“So,” Lily starts as you pull out of the driveway- Remus had moved his car out of the way and moved yours back so it would be easy for you to reverse out into the street.

“You and Remus are getting cosy.” She says and Marlene screeches.

“Thank you! Someone else sees it!”

You shake your head, “We’re just friends. Nothing has happened.”

Marlene rolls her eyes, “Because you’re not doing anything. He was eating off your plate at breakfast without invitation- might I remind you.”

Lily nods, “And he’s been extra smooth and affectionate with you! He never shared his clothes so easily- not even with the boys.”

You bite your lip and deliberate on their words. “What should I do then?”

You spend the half hour drive to the supermarket trading plans and tactics and by the time you enter the supermarket you have a clear game plan.

“Do you think it’ll work?” You’re not sure why you’re so nervous to put the moves on Remus, but your palms are sweaty as you hold the basket and the girls load it up.

“Oh, it’ll fucking drive him wild,” Lily promises. “He almost lost his mind when he saw you in the swim suit, he’s going to proper well lose it when we get back.”

When you get back to the cottage, the boys are watching the game, all the dishes are washed and the kettle’s whistling off.

“We got everything, who wants to start?” Marlene asks, dropping herself in Sirius’ lap, watching coyly as you carry the bags to the kitchen and Remus stands up immediately.

“I’ll start it,” you say and he grumbles.

“You’re not, go sit.” He takes the bags from you and sets about cleaning the meat and filling a stock pot with water.

“I’m serious, dove,” Remus says as you make it to the fridge to take out the onions and garlic.

“I’m just getting the ingredients out,” you say gently and Remus narrows his eyes at you. You set the stuff down on the counter, and when Remus turns his back you get a knife and start chopping.

“Dove,” he says shortly, looking back at you as he sets the beef to brown.

“Remus,” you mimic his tone and he scoffs, walking towards you. “What are you doing?” You ask as he stands beside you, waiting patiently for you to finish chopping the carrots and onions.

“Sending you to relax, because you can’t seem to listen.”

He takes the knife from you and you pout.

“I’d feel better if I was helping you though,” you say to him all while batting your eyelashes.

Marlene and Lily had told you to amp up the banter and the teasing just to push Remus along a little.

“Pretty girl,” he starts, but you hop up on the counter top and hold onto his wrists. You massage the thin skin of his wrist, Remus watches you with quirked eyebrows.

“Can’t I just stay here? I’ll just watch you, I don’t wanna watch the game.”

You blink slowly at him and Remus melts.

“God, you’re a fucking minx aren’t you?” He murmurs, moving his hands to hold the dough of your thighs. It’s only then he lets himself take in your outfit and he swears his brain nearly short circuits.

You’re in another pair of shorts, a much softer and breathier material than the denim ones, and a crocheted, purple bikini top. You’ve got your chains all layered and hanging between your boobs, crystals and turtles all hanging over each other, and Remus needs a minute to think about something else so he doesn’t get a hard on.

“Don’t know what you mean,” you pop a carrot slice between your teeth and Remus groans.

“Sure you don’t,” he narrows his eyes, hands squeezing your thighs as you swing your legs either side of his hips. “You’re not as innocent as you let on, princess.”

You roll your eyes but Remus sees the way your body reacts to the nickname and smirks.

“I’m the most innocent,” you jut your chin to the stove. “Don’t let your beef burn.”

Remus shakes his head, turning to tend to the stove. He feels your eyes track his every move, and can’t help but feel a type of tingle trail down his spine- more so when you hop off the counter and fit yourself right behind him.

Your hand rests on his back, your fingers spreading against his spine making him shudder.

“You need to take a walk, pretty girl,” he murmurs, adding the spices to the pot and covering it to start the simmer.

“With you? Of course I do.” Remus chuckles and turns quickly, using his hips to angle you against the space near the fridge.

“What’re you playing at, dove?” His hands fall to your hips, holding the supple skin there as he looks at you.

You lift a coy shoulder, “Nothing, you’re not a game.”

Remus smirks, “Neither are you,” you smile at the ease of his words. “But, I know what you’re trying to do.”

You frown, eyebrows knitted together. “What am I trying to do?”

Remus leans into you, his nose brushing yours. The way you lean up into him is too natural, Remus wants to chuckle, but you smell like caramel, vanilla and something musky that makes you intoxicating. It clouds his head, especially when you tip your chin up and he gets an even stronger scent of it.

“What am I trying to do, Remus?” Your hands sling behind his neck, your fingers climbing and winding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Rush my plans,” he whispers, your breaths mingling as he bumps your noses together again. He plays a mean tease and brushes your lips then pulls away the moment you try to meet him.

“You’re no fun.” You deduce and he laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth as he pulls away.

“You’ve no patience, princess,” he pats your butt, relishing in your scowl at the nickname. “Go sit down or have a smoke- you’re banned from the kitchen for the rest of the day.”

“You like to boss me around don’t you?” You ask as you open the fridge and take out the bottle of passion fruit juice.

“You like me bossing you around, don’t play coy, pretty girl.”

Remus blows you a teasing kiss as you walk out the kitchen with the glass of juice and you decide that you’ll be upping your game starting then on.

#dealer!remus #dealer!remus lupin #remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x high!reader

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

Text

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Hardest Thing Is Letting Go

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.9K words

Warnings: Funeral

guy's im still so sorry for this one, it's incredibly angsty - I promise I'll make things fluffier soon

Series Masterlist

"There was a time when I was afraid of the world. I was afraid of what was happening in my life and what it was becoming. I was afraid of the world we find ourselves being apart of."

Y/N had never addressed a room like this. Each and every mafia boss stared at her. Her own husband stared at her, with admiration in his eyes, Lando too. He was so proud of his little sister for doing something like this.

She shouldn't have to do it. The fact that she was standing in front of everybody to honour her best friend was astounding.

Tears were ready to fall, but Y/N wouldn't let them. She was going to be strong. For Oscar.

"There was one person who I could count on when I was this scared. He watched over me, kept me company and made me feel normal. There were times when I was breaking down and he'd play some music and get me to dance, taking my mind off of everything.

"That man was Oscar Jack Piastri."

She'd started writing this letter the moment that Carlos had gotten her back to Spain. It had started out as a letter to Oscar, with a lot more in it than she was willing to say in his funeral.

"Oscar wasn't a part of the Norris family," she continued. "In theory, we were never destined to meet. Every day since he first came into my life, I thank my lucky stars that we had him on loan from Webber."

Her hands shook as she turned the page.

"Without Oscar, I wouldn't be here today. He saved my life in so many ways. There was a time in my life, without him by my side, I would have ended it all."

The tears were free flowing now. Carlos stood from his seat and came to stand beside his wife, trying to gently coax her to sit down, but she wouldn't. She had a a speech to make.

She skipped over the next little section. That bit was for her and her only. "Oscar was the bravest of us all. He endured so much. He didn't have to be harsh or domineering to show just what power he had.

"But he was also kind and sweet." He was my soulmate, in the most platonic sense of the word.

Platonic, Y/N thought. But a small part of her was so sure, had circumstances been different, it would be Oscar she was in love with, Oscar who was holding her through the night. Even if they were still in with world of crime and mafia families, if Y/N didn't have to marry Carlos, she was sure she and Oscar would have been together.

She knew this before she got married, but she couldn't say anything. In another universe she would have loved Oscar.

"He saved my life more than once, and I will never be able to repay that debt," she said, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "He was the very best of us and our world will never be the same without him. Oscar-" But she stopped, just a second to compose himself. "Oscar..."

This time, when Carlos wrapped his arms around her, Y/N fell into him, crying against his chest. He held her for a moment, stroked her back and ran his fingers through her hair.

He moved Y/N behind him and addressed his fellow heads of family. "Oscar became a very dear friend of mine. Without him, I wouldn't have my beautiful wife standing by my side. To that, I say we raise our glasses-" Nobody had a glass in hand "-to a man we will sorely miss."

It was different to the funeral of Norris. The grief Y/N felt was different, harder to deal with.

After the funeral, Carlos took his wife home. They sat in the very back of the car as they were driven to the Webber plane hangar. Lando had organised food for everybody for after the funeral, but Y/N just couldn't be here. And Carlos knew it, too.

They sat beside each other on the jet, her head on Carlos's shoulder as she cried herself to sleep. Oscar was gone. The words still felt foreign to her.

It was incredibly long flight, with the couple stopping over in Malaysia. They had been the ones to take Oscar's body back to Australia, back to his family, to be buried. It meant a long trip for them, but they didn't care. After all that Oscar had done for them, this was the least they could do for him.

It was near a day later that they touched down in Spain. Their stay in Madrid had been short lived, just long enough to refuel the Spain. They should have stayed in Australia, the couple thought. But that was too painful.

Carlos drove them back to the house. He kept his hand on her leg as the radio played quietly, filling the space between them. They didn't have to speak; it wouldn't help anything for the time being.

"I wish he could have met baby Oscar," she whispered as they approached the gate in front of the house. She cradled her bump with one hand, the other on top of Carlos's.

Before the funeral, Carlos had insisted that they go to the hospital, for Y/N's first prenatal check up. They found out just how far along she was and the sex of the baby.

As soon as they found out they were having a boy, she knew they had to call him Oscar. Oscar Sainz, after the man that had saved his life. His middle name was chosen by his father. Pau, a Spanish name. OP Sainz. Their baby was OP Sainz.

Carlos drove through the gates when they opened and pulled into the garage. He opened the car door for Y/N and held her hand as they walked through the house. The house was different now, it felt colder somehow.

"I'm going to get us guard dogs," he said as they climbed the stairs.

Y/N nodded her head as she walked through the hall, heading towards the room that Carlos and Oscar had decorated for the baby. She hadn't seen it yet, just listened as Carlos told her about it to try and calm her down.

Her breath caught in her throat as she walked into the nursery. "You two did all of this?" She asked as she looked around the room, They had done everything, put up shelves and built the drawers and wardrobe. They'd painted the walls and set up the crib, including a little tee-pee tent full of cushions and blankets.

There was a blanket in the crib, one decorated with giraffes. Y/N picked it up and held it close to her chest as she looked around the room. Her husband and her best friend had done all of this for her baby. It was a living memory to Oscar, just like the baby would be.

"I'm thinking of painting his name on the door," said Carlos as Y/N turned towards him.

Y/N put the blanket back and fell against her husband, pressing her lips to his. "My wonderful husband," she whispered, her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly.

He took her hand and walked her out to the window. "Take a look," he said and she looked to where the golf course used to be.

Carlos had set up an entire play area for their child. If Y/N had the strength to cry, she would have. But she couldn't anymore, her body too exhausted.

"What would you like for dinner, mi corazon?" He asked, his finger trailing up her arm.

"I just want to sleep, Carlos," she croaked, exhausted.

That was fine, he'd let her sleep. Carlos followed her out of the nursery. He watched as Y/N turned left, heading back to her old room. That was right, he hadn't told her yet. "Querida, wait!" He called as he grabbed a hold of her arm. "This way."

Carlos led her into his bedroom, the bedroom they now shared. He'd moved all of her things in during those twelve weeks that he had been alone. He sat her on the bed and got her changed into her loosest and comfiest pyjamas. "Sleep, mi corazon. I'll have dinner for you ready when you take up," he said and pulled the sheets back.

Y/N climbed under it. She closed her eyes as Carlos kissed her forehead and left the room.

He spent the next few hours making his way through work. It was comforting, having things back to normal. Or, as normal as they could be. Most of the work he went through was sorting through his fathers affairs.

After three hours of working, there was a knock at the office door. He glanced up briefly and returned to his work. "Not now, madre," he muttered under his breath as he strode into the room.

"¿Y? ¿Ya no hablamos nuestra lengua materna?" She asked as she sat in the seat opposite him. (And? Don't we speak our native language anymore?)

Letting out a sigh, Carlos looked up from his work and placed his pen down. "Podemos hablar nuestra lengua materna, madre. ¿Qué te gustaría hablar?" (we can speak our mother tongue, mother. What would you like to talk about?)

"No hemos tenido una cena familiar desde que murió tu padre," she said, correcting her posture and sitting up straighter. (We haven't had a family dinner since your father died.)

Carlos shut his eyes for a moment. It was their first night back in the house since Y/N's kidnapping. "Por favor madre. No es una cena familiar a menos que mi esposa esté allí. Después de todo lo que él ha pasado, ella necesita tiempo." (please mother It's not a family dinner unless my wife is there. After everything he's been through, she needs time.)

He stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he began as he switched back to English. "I'm going to make my wife some dinner."

Carlos strode out of his office, leaving his mother where she was.

And he really did make Y/N dinner. He didn't ask the cooks to do it, he got stuck in and made her something to eat. It was surprising, just how good of a cook Carlos was. It was also surprising how much he enjoyed it.

He made her dinner, along with a side of buttered toast, just in case she didn't want what he made her. He walked it up to the bedroom and placed it on the dresser as he gently woke her up. He whispered her name and shook her shoulder gently. "Wake my, mi amor. I made you dinner."

Y/N opened her eyes. It was clear from the way she stared at him, eyes wide, that her sleep hadn't been peaceful. Carlos placed the plates in front of her as she sat her. "Here, querida," he said and pulled the cutlery from his pocket.

She dug into her dinner, eating it all (including the toast). "My wonderful husband," she said as he placed the plates back onto the dresser.

Carlos climbed onto the bed and sat himself beside her. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her onto his lap. "I love you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. "My beautiful wife. I'm never going to let you go."

She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his mouth to hers.

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trashcanfanfics · 1 year

Note

i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time

I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)

Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit

Angel Dust:

You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.

Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.

The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.

You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.

On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.

"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.

"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.

"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.

"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.

"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.

"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.

Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.

"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.

"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.

You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.

"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.

Blitz:

All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.

"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.

Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite

You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??

Blitz Baby <3: Asking

You: Then yes ;*

Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*

You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.

The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.

Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up

You: Aw what?? :( Okay...

Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short

You: Okay

Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.

Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.

A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.

"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.

"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.

"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.

"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.

The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.

"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."

"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.

"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!

"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.

"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.

"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.

Husk:

All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.

Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.

"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.

"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.

"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.

"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.

"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.

"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.

"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.

"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.

"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.

"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.

Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.

"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.

Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.

"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.

"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.

"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.

#hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #helluva boss x reader #blitzo x reader #husk x reader #trashcan answers you

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akoyaxs · 5 months

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Tì'eylan ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Word Count: 16k ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff, Aonung's pov (kinda mega horny for her), jealously, lap sitting, accidental stimulation, masturbation (m), slight slight angst if you squint, kissing, biting, munchiness, coming untouched, p in v, nicknames (Aonung calls reader tsawksyul, which means sunlily) ✮ A/N: so I kinda went a little overboard with this one - idk what to tell you - i had a lot to say and ngl had a lot of daydreams during boring classes that i didnt have time to turn into writing till now (>﹏<) Also lol, I'm on holiday w my family rn so writing this at times was quite risky but anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS, I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS ONE <3

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Never in a million years would you have suspected that you’d end up close friends with Aonung.

When you met him, shielded by the somewhat brotherly protection of Neteyam and Lo’ak, Aonung had been indifferent to you at the very best, and taunting and infuriating for the first few weeks in Awa’atlu.

All it took was a few skirmishes, several unorthodox verbal arguments, and one fucked up altercation with other humans for Aonung to get off his high horse of hazing the newbies.

You weren’t sure if it was Neteyam’s near-death and your inconsolable distress over it, or the closeness of you getting nearly kidnapped by the Recoms (the “pretty traitor” as the had called you left little to imagination of what sort of fates you would have met with the RDA), but there on that empty beach, watching the sun set in the safety of the village bay, left alone or maybe even forgotton, you had found his ridiculously tall form approaching.

Aonung sat slowly and silently beside your smaller, disconcerted figure. After a wordless moment, in which you continued to absently stare out at the empty horizon, he had placed a soft, woven blanket over you.

It was a little rough, but of course he didn’t mean to be. Moreover, it had just been a wordless loan of something quite too large for your human figure – so much so you were practically drowning in it – but the weight was warm and reassuring, as, surprisingly, was his still, quiet presence hulking beside you.

“Thank you.”

Your whisper – feeble and weak even to your own ears – would have been lost in the breeze and lapping waves, but you later reminded yourself of na’vi’s superior senses, as he let out a small sound of acknowledgment, silently noting how shaken you still were.

“Are you alright?” he had asked, following your unspoken rule and also quietly watching the ocean, and more importantly, keeping his gaze from your pale, unnerved face.

“Yep.”

And that had been just that.

No more words had been spoken, not so much as a glance or gesture was offered, but something had changed as the unlikely pair of you sat in ponderous silence, watching the gilded horizon.

You never really discussed the hiccup at your initial meeting (and the period that had followed before friendship was forged), but you never needed to. Aonung had wordlessly conveyed his apology, as had you accepted it.

It is an uncomplicated friendship; time spent together is full of teasing and laughter and often petty argument, and time spent apart is to gather new material to discuss, to scheme up new ways to make the other’s life an amusing hell, and of course to just fuck around.

Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.

You could tell it from the moment you saw him, even before knowing his desirable position in the clan or noting the lovesick-lustful looks the village girls couldn’t tear off their faces when he was within eyesight. It’s not just obvious through his physical appearance (although, admittedly, that is the work of the lord), but through his walk and talk and everything in between.

Even before your friendship, you knew Aonung was off with a different girl every few days, and said girl would always then labour under the deulusion she alone captured the lustful gaze of her future Olo’eyktan – something that always reminded you not to fall for your friend in his hopelessly infuriating slutiness.

It came as no surprise to you when your theory of you friend being Pandora’s biggest slut was proved to be quite true, so you aren’t entirely sure why the outlines of your love life came as quite the shock to the Metkayina man.

“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”

You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.

You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.

Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.

“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”

“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”

Oh.

Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.

“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.

“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”

“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”

He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.

“I don’t just take care of me myself, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.

You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.

And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?

Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.

So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.

Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.

But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.

You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”

Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.

“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.

“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.

“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”

“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”

“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”

Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.

“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”

“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”

When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.

“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”

“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”

He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.

“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. Lie.

But you weren’t about to admit the truth – that your irritating friend is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You try to put it from your mind; those ten feet of pure muscle sculpted to glorious perfection only masked his stupidity and secret superpower of infuriating you with the slightest of comments or even glances.

“And what do you keep in that little book of yours then?” Aonung grins, looking infuriatingly smug.

You set down your beading with slight annoyance now, and you frown at your friend. He’s sat up now, propped back on his hands, head tilted to stare at you with that dangerous gleam that makes you want to question everything, every tone and muscle in his body practically glowing in the afternoon light.

“What book?” you ask wearily, forcing your eyes away from his body.

“You know,” he snickers. “The one you quickly stash away when you see me coming, that you think no one knows about? The little one you hide somewhere in this-”

“If you ever read that Aonung,” you threaten, suddenly on your feet with your face flushed deep deep red. God, what were you thinking trying to keep a diary? You’re an adult! “I swear to bloody mary that I will castrate you and burn everything I chop off.”

Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.

“If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”

And finally he does, reluctantly.

All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.

But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.

When the sun sets and Kiri drops by to offer you eat with her and Rotxo, you say a quick goodbye to Aonung, who nods and leaves.

“What’s up with him?” Kiri asks, raising her brows at Aonung’s fading back, which is unmistakably tense. “What did you do to him?”

“He just found out about my romping around,” you shrug. “And he-”

“He what?” Kiri gawks, freezing in her steps so you smack into her and instantly fall back onto the ground. “Oh sorry- but YOU TOLD HIM?”

“Yes…?” you say slowly, confused why she’s so shocked. “He’s my friend.”

“So is Lo’ak, so is Neteyam,” Kiri points out. “But you aren’t telling them that you’re going around with-”

“That’s different,” you say quickly. “Lo’ak and Tey are like my brothers, and Aonung… is not.”

“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.

There’s an awkward moment of silence in which she’s clearly waiting for you to say more.

“He’s infuriating,” you finally burst out.

“Yes he is,” Kiri agrees. She continues in her pointed silence as you move into her marui, until you finally can’t take it anymore.

“Fine!” you snap, face flushed. “He’s absolutely irritating in every way, and now he’s suddenly all caring about what I do in my own time with other guys? WE AREN’T EVEN A THING-”

“Are you sure about that?” Rotxo grins from the other side. “Just think about the way he acts when you’re around.”

“Annoying and cocky?” you huff, but you know what he means.

“Come on,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head at you with affection, “don’t tell me you’re this oblivious all of a sudden. What happened to my friend who used to have half the Omatikaya wrapped around her little finger, who could charm even the coldest of warriors? Where did all your psychicness go?”

“That’s not a word,” you grumble, hiding your unease with semantics.

“Okay enough,” Kiri sighs, pulling you up from where you had just comfortably settled on the floor and dragging you out to the entrance. “No more obliviousness.”

“Where are you taking me?” you moan, lazily allowing her to drag you off through the village, Rotxo trailing contentedly and obediently behind his mate.

“To get you changed,” she says carelessly. “We’re going out.”

Aonung wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he asked you that question. But he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to hear that his little tawtute was getting her way around the clan.

You were his friend. Once even friend had been a loose term to describe your relationship, but he would be lying if he hadn’t know that from the moment he laid eyes of your small figure – barely even half the height of the Sullys as they landed in Awa’atlu with your curious eyes and strange clothing – that you were his.

But after some time when the two of you had warmed to one another, he had realised that he did not see you in a way that was even remotely platonic.

The reasoning for that was probably that he saw you everywhere; your face, your small hands, your little body.

On nights spent with various other girls, he found his eyes closing and his mind imagining it was you splayed out beneath him, your pretty little face twisted with the lewdest of moans. When, eventually, he gave up on trying to fuck these lustful profanities into other girls, cock in hand in the privacy of sheltered coves or his own marui, he would long for it to be your hand wrapped around his length, to feel your lips brushing over every inch of his body, sinking his fangs into your smooth, soft skin.

He tried to tell himself, all the rest of that afternoon which he spent fuming around his marui before the festivities of that night, that it wasn’t the fact that you were with other guys that was bothering him. You were a free woman, free to do what you liked, free to spend your time on other men.

But on the other hand, the men of his clan were of his clan.

They were Aonung’s people - not just in a metaphorical sense of belonging - they were not as free to do as they liked when Aonung would one day lead them. And they should damn well know better than to touch you.

They had no license to have you, touch you, even look at you.

Had Aonung not made it clear enough - even if you seemed completely oblivious to it - that you were his?

Sure, he made not have had you in that purely carnal aspect that you apparently had shared with worthless spineless skxawngs unfit to be in your very presence, but the way he acted around you, the gifts he brought to you, the way he protected you with all the ferocity boiling within him, even the way his scent lingers on your skin when he can’t be near you (even if your tawtute nose couldn’t smell it) marks you as if not his, then at least definitely untouchable.

So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?

They, more than anyone, should know how Aonung can get when he sets his mind to something. And that one is you, and he’s not about to let anyone else dare lay so much a finger on your smaller body ever again. He’s already cursing himself for not realising all this sooner, letting you waste your time with men could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. Which is why – when he sees you next, across the fire at a party – Aonung doesn’t take any chances.

It's a pretty typical Metkayina gathering, full of young warriors, hunters, village girls and other various clan members. Flasks of unilpay are being passed around and the air is rich with loud laughter, conversation, and other various drunken atrocities. The beach – cool in the clear night breeze – is basked in the balmy, warm glow of a bonfire. Sparks are flying gracefully up; flaming glimmers among the silver stars of the heavens.

“What were you thinking?” he demands in a low voice, striding straight up to Rotxo and grabbing his friend’s arm to face him. “Why is she here?”

“Kiri thought it would be good for her to come out for a bit,” Rotxo shrugs. Aonung scoffs, far too used to his best friend’s continual obedience to whatever Kiri does.

“I thought you were just going to have dinner, have a little chat, you know?” Aonung grumbles, looking away to scan the party, making sure you were far on the other side and alone with Kiri. “But now you bring her here?”

Rotxo settles back, looking slightly amused amidst his dawning understanding, and Aonung’s hand slowly falls from its tight grip around his arm.

“And what is so terrible about her being here?” Rotxo counters. “She’s been hanging around the village for ages, she’s been to these parties before. What’s your problem now?”

Aonung growls low under his breath. Frustration is starting to course through him. Rotxo knows what the answer is – what Aonung’s deal is, why he cares, why his gaze can’t seem to stop drifting towards you, but he’s waiting for the words to be spoken.

Instead, with a small huff of exasperation, Aonung pushes past Rotxo to approach you.

Through that short conversation that seemed an eternity, Aonung had not missed all the glances snuck covertly in your direction, shot from the corner of eyes and over shoulders and between the flickering flames separating you from most of the festivities.

You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.

He didn’t quite understand tawtute customs, particularly your strange clothes that frustratingly covered so much of your body that na’vi clothing would usually be displaying with confidence and adoration, but he had spent enough time with you to know he had never seen you wear something like this.

He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.

It’s hard to describe when the style is from a completely different species, but the thought that first crosses his mind is black. It was the first thing he notices after all, the black material cloaking over your body, brushing lightly over your soft skin.

You’ve worn things vaguely in this style before (dresh… cress… dress or something) but they had all been long and flowy and beautiful, yes, but this was so much more than that. It was stupid, actually, that only a change of outfit has Aonung’s heart seizing in his chest, throat bobbing and jaw clenched at the sight of you standing there, unilpay in one hand, the other moving to push your hair from your face.

It barely even covers your legs, and your arms and shoulders are left completely bare except for a wispy black strand that winds over your skin to vainly hold it up from your breasts. From Aonung’s view of you, he feels like just watching you is sinful. It’s wrong, to be seeing you like this, to be thinking these thoughts of you, but he can’t pull away from his view.

He had always known tawtute bodies were different to na’vi (all slim and muscular), and sometimes he found himself pleading that the next day your clothing would not be as flowy and coveraging as it always was, but he’d always beat back those sinful desires with the reminder of your positions.

But now, with the smooth skin of your thighs and slim shoulders and the ample curves of your body on full, glorious display, Aonung wonders how he ever managed to go without seeing you like this before.

You are always so small to him, but every curve of your body, in your thighs and hips and breasts and fuck.

Aonung stifles a low groan at all the thoughts flooding his filthy mind, and wrenches his gaze from the glorious glow of your soft skin under the dancing light of the fire.

And then, in several unconscious moments where Aonung has no clue what he’s doing, in several long strides to get him by your side without the pain of seconds apart from you, he’s beside you. You look up at him through your long dark lashes, and he also notices your lips look plumper and shinier than usual; the smooth rosiness gleaming tantalisingly up at him.

Not for the first time, he has to swallow a furious desire to sink his fangs lightly into your silky lips, and he immediately darts his gaze away – the method he always uses in vain attempts to stem those filthy, forbidden, longings.

“What are you doing here?” Aonung asks coldly, staring down at you from his metre above.

“Same as you,” you shrug. “I’m here to have fun.”

Aonung is not happy to hear that.

His glare moves straight to Kiri, who’s watching his displeased reaction with mingled interest and amusement. Obviously, her and Rotxo have some stupid ulterior motive or plot or something, but he won’t have any of it, not if it risks other guys getting anywhere near you.

But he can’t think of anything to do. If he tells you to leave then you’d doubtless shout at him and be in that pouty, pissed mood that you sometimes get into. And he can’t just flat out voice the truth, not with this many people standing around, not during one of the most unromantic settings he could imagine with tipsy warriors and a blazing fire.

From the moment he stood beside you though, the gazes moved away. Aonung’s pleased to find less and less eyes roving quickly over you, and the ones that do are quickly averted when he scowls at them.

Just as he thinks maybe it’ll be over – that no one will bother you anymore – people start to dance. Aonung had been friends with you long enough to know this was your favourite part of any festivity. You loved to watch the sway and undulation and grace of the na’vi in their movements, the beautiful delicacy of the clothing gleaming under the stars and tails coiling and moving in timely leisure.

And he also knows it will surely be a matter of time before you want to join in or worse, someone else asks you to dance.

So he sits gracelessly down next to you, on that log you’ve perched yourself on top of. The weight of his body suddenly seated beside you makes your little body jolt a little, but you grit your teeth with a small eye roll and discreetly dig your fingers into the bark. He spreads out a little, ensuring there is no more room on the log, with you seated between Kiri’s slim, tall figure and his own broad, muscular body.

Kiri certainly doesn’t miss this gesture (or the meaning behind it), but she hides her small smile with a sip from her coconut. You, on the other hand, are so entranced by the dancing that you don’t notice when Aonung spreads his legs a little wider so his muscular thigh is brushing against your small, soft, slightly squishy one he wordlessly loves so much.

You continue to watch with wordless awe, and Aonung sits, contented with the fact that no one has dared approach yet.

Yet when some stupid warrior – Tsu’kae, Aonung thinks his name is – blantantly turns to stare at you with shameless, disgustingly lustful interest, Aonung decides he has to step it up. Has he not made it fucking clear enough that you are his?

Slowly so he doesn’t attract too much of your attention, Aonung leans back and slips his arm to rest on his hands on either side of his body. This way, you’re closed in between his firmly planted hand and his own body, without any space on the log for anyone else.

When you finally notice Aonung’s stretched out into your space, you grumble faintly about his stupid giant body and his lack of care for personal space, but you settle back to rest your head lightly against his arm behind you.

Aonung tries not to tense, completely unprepared for your comfort against him, thrown of by your soft hair cascading and your face resting gently against his arm, lips inches away from brushing his skin yet your breath ghosts warm and present against him.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper faintly to him, and he tries to ignore the fact that each word is whispered nearly right against his veins, as though your voice is coursing straight to his heart. You shiver lightly beside him.

“Yeah,” he replies in a low voice, throat feeling quite tight and strained; it isn’t exactly easy to scare off any other guys when he’s already about to explode just having you this close.

He feels slightly stupid; you’re watching the dances with awe and appreciation and a distant melancholy, desirous longing, and of course, he’s watching you. With equal ferocity, just excelling past with unbearable, flaming tendrils of frustrated craving snaking through his veins, seizing his heart and freezing his mind.

It’s only when he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you, with the same effort it takes to fell an akula, that he notices Tsu’kae is no longer on the sand amidst the dancing Metkayina. In fact, he’s on the outskirts, conspicuously sliding closer with slimy, transparent steps to get closer to you.

With a fierce stab of selfishness for what is his, Aonung finds his arm – the one caging you beside him – sweeping closer and bringing you with it, so you’re gently slid along the long till you’re pressed against his solid side.

You squint up at him with slight suspicious confusion, and he almost misses that little tense, gleam in your eyes. He can also hear the gentle, warm beats of your heart pick up, but he puts all the possibilities of reasonings of that from his mind to watch with cold irritation as Tsu’kae finally makes his way besides you.

“May I sit here?” he asks, glancing dubiously at the log.

Aonung, with a sudden desire to kick himself for his carelessness, realises to late that in pulling you towards him, he mistakenly left space on the log for someone to sit.

Unfortunately, Tsu’kae misses Aonung’s glower, which was a clear dismissal of the inferior warrior. You, finally, seemed to have some tiny inkling of the situation, because you glance briefly up at Aonung as though asking if Tsu’kae can join you.

The clear answer was no, but Aonung knew you well enough to guess that your unfortunate habit of masterfully ignoring unspoken orders may be about to be practised. Instead, he settled himself on a much more enjoyable option.

“Sure,” he rumbles to Tsu’kae, who looks a little startled, as though he wasn’t expecting to get personally addressed by Aonung.

Before he can sit beside you on the log, Aonung’s reaching over to lift you up and settle you comfortably in his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise to find yourself suddenly lifted as though you weigh nothing. Tsu’kae watches with mingled fascination and strange terror at Aonung’s plain message – you cannot have her.

Yet maybe Aonung didn’t completely think this plan through.

You’d never sat on his lap before, and although he’d often thought about it, how your squishy thighs and curvy hips would feel resting softly over his own would feel, how light and small and delicate you’d be against him, this was completely different.

He can feel everything about you. Your thighs – almost completely bare as the fabric of your clothing hitches all the way up to your ass – are pressed against his own, your skin all warm and soft and so velvety, deliciously smooth. Your body is still slightly tense despite your feigned nonchalance, and he can feel the tightness of your body resting on his.

And he can smell you. It’s warm, just a comforting, familiar scent that he spends all day breathing in, memorising and filing away into the back of his mind where, in the shelter and privacy of his own marui in those helplessly longing night, he can build up that image of you in your imagined lewd actions for him and to him. There’s something over the top of it, something new and flowery you must have just applied for tonight.

He has to fight a physical urge to just bury his entire face in the warm of your neck – your soft hair falling around him – and simply scenting you to the point everything else just completely ceases to exist and with his eyes closed and heart thumping, all that surrounds him is you and your warmth.

It takes Aonung a moment to remind himself where he is, surrounded by everyone, sitting beside the still-gaping Tsu’kae. To remind himself that it isn’t just the two of you alone, and especially that you are only friends, and it would probably be a little surprising if he finally just succumbed to all the filthy desires that suddenly seem a thousand times stronger than usual.

You’re finally relaxing on his lap, muscles untensing and breath coming in soft nature. The only downside is that when you loosen a little and stop sitting like there’s a splint to your spine, the soft curve of your ass, barely even covered by your clothing now, settles inches away from his crotch.

Aonung has a small surge of panic when his blood rushes south, but he just masks his soft groan as a hum of appreciation for the dance.

Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.

Never once had he taken the warnings of his mother, father, sister and basically the whole rest of the clan to heart – never once accepted that one day, his impulsivity might have consequences.

But the thought of what you might do when you realise how hard your so called “friend” is by you simply sitting on his lap is too much to bear.

What if you think he’s some crazy sort of desperate perv? What if you never see him the same, and everything is ruined and awkward and dangerous between the two of you? What if you tell Neteyam and Lo’ak and they beat the absolute shit out of him for acting like this?

Fuck.

From the corner of his eye – Aonung’s too scared to move enough to properly turn his head – he can see Tsu’kae all awkward and stupid and helpless. It should now be quite obvious his position in this situation; that he has no place here, anywhere near you.

Now getting over your surprise of being suddenly nestled in your friend’s lap, you’re starting to settle back. You’ve rested yourself against his chest, and he grits his teeth, jaw clenched and fangs sinking lightly into his lip.

Your hair is pillowing your head lightly where it rests, barely even at his chest and right below the fang of his necklace. Your back – nearly completely bare with the low cut of your soft clothing – is settled firmly against his abs, and the warmth your skin on his is oddly comforting, mollifying his slight ferocity.

The soft, sweet scent of you is closer now, more obvious below whatever that other flowery smell you’re wearing is, and Aonung tries his best to keep his breathing even so you won’t notice how he’s breathing in your scent.

But trying to act like just the proximity and scent and feel of you isn’t getting him hard is more difficult than it looks, and Aonung strains his brain to think of ways to delay the inevitable of when you finally notice the ever-growing tent in his tewng.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Tsu’kae offers after a moment of tense silence that you don’t seem to notice. Aonung wonders faintly if your human senses just don’t pick up this sort of tension, or maybe you really are just infuriatingly, endearingly oblivious.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, shifting to give him a little smile.

A fierce stab of strange jealously blossoms like fire inside of Aonung, suddenly scorching his veins and he has a sudden desire to smack that returned, almost-shy-to-hide-his horniness smirk off Tsu’kae’s face. He probably would have, had you not leaned back against him and shimmied your soft ass to lay right over the ridge of his hardened cock.

Aonung gives a sudden jolt, nearly tossing you unceremoniously from his lap and even more mortifyingly - accidentally grinding his tented, straining tewng against the curve of your ass.

There’s a moment in which Aonung thinks you are about to scream at him, turn and curse him out for his lewd state. He can hear your heart pick up suddenly, see the tips of your small, roundish ears go slightly pink, watch a flush creep along back of your neck.

“Do you mind?” you grumble. “If you’re going to try cockblocking me, at least don’t nearly throw me around. I was perfectly comfortable, you bumbling skxawng.”

Aonung blinks in sluggish silence, your words sinking into his brain till he realises with an overwhelming surge or relief that you didn’t notice. Eywa, he’s never been so thankful of the simplicity of human anatomical function.

“I’m not trying to cock block you,” he says instead, and you scoff.

“Please,” you say stoutly, and Aonung can just imagine you rolling your eyes in that amused way you always do. “You really have no idea how conspicuous you are, dumbass.”

“I am not,” Aonung says with a frown, ignoring the human name he doesn’t understand. “Besides, you could do much better than the likes of Tsu’kae.”

“Really?” you say coolly. Aonung suddenly can’t picture what your face looks like; your tone is completely unreadable as though you’re trying to make it even, hiding whatever you’re actually thinking right now. “And what is so terrible about Tsu’kae?”

“He’s dim-witted,” Aonung points out. “Slow, unreliable, terrible at spear throwing-”

“Ah yes,” you interrupt, “everything I look for in a hook-up; his spear throwing abilities.”

“And he’s obviously just horny,” Aonung adds, ignoring the now painful tent in his tewng and the heavy irony of his words. He looks pointedly across the party, and you follow his gaze to see Tsu’kae standing with his friends, drinking heavily from a flask, getting a few hyping smacks from his mates as they no doubt discuss you.

“So someone would just have to be horny to fuck me?” you huff, turning your neck to glare at him. Aonung bites down a small groan as you accidentally shift on his crotch. “There’s nothing else endearing about me, it would just depend on their arousal?”

“No,” Aonung says quickly, but your scowl is deepening the longer it takes for him to find the right words – ones that don’t give away his own… excitement. “There is nothing wrong with you-”

“Who said anything about there being something wrong with me?” you snap, brows furrowing and face now torn between fury and something he can’t quite make out.

“No one- nothing- what?” Aonung stammers, confused at why you’re suddenly so upset. “You are just far too good for Tsu’kae. He does not deserve your time.”

“Then who does?” you ask sullenly, slightly folding into yourself, yet you still don’t pull away from your seat in his lap. “What about Sokzu-”

“He is arrogant,” Aonung shoots the idea down.

“What about Ta’ru-”

“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.

“Or Kayo-”

“Lazy-”

“Zäki?”

“Seriously,” Aonung says firmly, now frowning too. “Do you seriously think any of these skxawngs are worth your interest?”

Your mouth twitches at his words, though he still has no fucking clue what you’re thinking.

“What are you trying to say, Aonung?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

You’re still looking up at him, eyes large and shimmering in the light from the fire and scattered stars. Aonung swallows, gaze darting quickly down to your glossy lips before fixing back on your face. He can’t look away.

“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.

You both turn to see Tsu’kae standing there, looking a little rumpled and disorientated. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’s drunk now, and Aonung doesn’t fail to notice your nose scrunch for an instant before you smooth out your face and take it with a small smile and a thank you.

Completely oblivious and obviously stupid, Tsu’kae continues to stand awkwardly, before he seems to gather enough courage to ask, “Would you like to come for a walk, tawtute?”

Instantly, Aonung’s blood has turned to ice. He doesn’t even look at you before snapping, “She’s good.”

Tsu’kae’s face falls in a small frown, and he, – stupidly – drops his own flask on the sand to clench his fists.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he slurs. “I was talking to her.”

“And I gave you an answer,” Aonung counters, eyes narrowing at the disrespect this meager warrior is displaying. “She’s not going to go anywhere with you.”

Again, Tsu’kae fails to pull himself together and show the proper respect. He steps closer, face pulled into a little frown as he raises his brows at Aonung.

“And what are you going to do to stop her?” he leers. “If she wants to come?”

“Do you want to go?” Aonung asks you, a small furrow between his brows as he looks down at you. You’re all wide-eyed and wordless, eyes darting between Aonung and Tsu’kae who scowls.

“Of course she want-”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Aonung hisses through gritted teeth. “Do you want to go with him?”

Your lips part. You don’t seem to have any answer to give, and you just stare blankly at Aonung, still seated in his lap. Finally, Tsu’kae’s drunken patience seems to have run out, and his hand closes around your tiny wrist.

“Come on taw-”

You’re no sooner pulled helplessly off Aonung than he’s on his feet, then finding his fist sinking satisfyingly into Tsu’ake’s jaw. The stupid warrior lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles back, dragging your little figure with his weight.

“Let her go,” Aonung says coolly, reaching to grab your other arm.

It’s a little awkward, and you’re wincing slightly at the grip of each arm clutched by the two men. People are starting to turn and stare now, and you’re struggling to free yourself.

“Now,” Aonung adds.

Reluctantly, Tsu’kae lets go of your wrist with a frustrated huff, and you flinch at the angry red mark on your skin from where he touched you. Aonung’s heart thuds irately at the mark, and he gently pushes you behind him.

“Touch her again,” Aonung hisses, stepping closer to hide your nervously watching figure, “and I kill you.”

Tsu’kae just laughs, before making to shove Aonung backwards. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t shift in the slightest, and Tsu’kae stumbles into Aonung, who grips the skxawng by the back of his neck. Instantly, Tsu’kae winces away, averting his eyes and vainly trying to get away.

“Pathetic,” Aonung says coolly, pulling him up to study him further. “You actually thought you’d get to have time with her.”

Tsu’kae lets out a small hiss and brings his fist up to smack into Aonung’s cheek. It isn’t particularly painful, but a blow is a blow and Aonung tosses him to the side. He slams unceremoniously into the sand, where he’s met with small stifled laughter and disapproving glances. You’re still gaping at Aonung, who gently kneels beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. You nod, eyes raking over his face before your fingertips reach out to trace lightly over the mark of Tsu’kae’s laughable punch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

No one else makes a noise, but Aonung can feel all eyes on your retreating backs as he leads you away. He can still feel the burn of disbelieving attention on him as the party fades away and the woven walkways of the village come into view. More importantly, he can feel eyes on you, and, desperate to make sure you don’t feel uneasy, he places a wide hand on your back to lightly steer you in front, out of the way of prying eyes.

When he drops you off at your marui, it’s with a strange ache in his chest.

You look tired and the gloss of your lips is nearly completely gone now. You smile up at him at the entrance, but when he turns to leave, he can sense your drunkenness. Not for the first time, he curses how strong na’vi alcohol is to you, and before you know what’s happening, he’s turned back and steered you all the way into your marui and laid you down on the bed.

“Here,” he instructs, handing you a small flask of water. “Drink this before you sleep.”

“You’re looking after me,” you smile stupidly. Aonung wants to kick himself for not noticing how tipsy you had been in the distraction of everything, but he just rolls his eyes at your dopiness.

“Well, I didn’t go to all this trouble tonight to just leave you like this,” Aonung says wearily, reaching for one of those black stretchy things you use for your hair and clumsily tying it back for you. “Eywa, you’re just going to have to sleep in this.”

“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumble softly, a small furrow forming between your brows.

Aonung could have sworn those words could have punched the breath out of him – and he fights down a desire to tell you just how pretty you look, how you always look.

Instead, he just gently pats your forehead and whispers, “Just get some sleep.”

You nod obediently, never taking your eyes off his face as he fusses about, straightening your bed, making sure there’s water beside you. But when he turns to leave, you softly whisper out his name.

Aonung turns back. You don’t say anything, just continuing to stare at him. It’s a tense moment of silence, until you finally sigh.

“Goodnight,” you whisper. Aonung doesn’t reply, just giving you a soft smile.

It’s not until Aonung’s back in his own marui, flopping down onto his bed with a groan, does he remember exactly what had happened.

It’s filthy and humiliating, that the second he remembers the moment – the scent and the proximity and the feel of you seated in his lap – his tewng is growing stranglingly tight once more.

This has happens much more than Aonung would ever readily admit. He tries his utmost to not even think about it. But once more, he can’t help but palm himself lightly through the thin fabric of his tewng that has put up quite the struggle tonight.

Eywa, just the thought of you at that party – hair flowing over your bare back, the glow of your skin and the softness of your thighs, breathing in your warm sweet scent, the same one that’s now slowly fading from his skin that you had been so gloriously pressed against.

Fuck.

Really, who is this hurting? he justifies himself as he impatiently tears away his tewng. It’s just to take the edge off. It doesn’t mean anything.

Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.

But he can’t bring himself to process all the copious issues of what he’s doing when everything about you is fresh in his mind, stuck in his mind, and using that young horny man logic that dubiously validates each of these moments, he lets himself sink into those coarse imaginations.

There’s a million of them, layered on top of one another, flooding and racing through his mind.

Ones in which you’re squirming under him, ones in which your soft thighs are nestled tightly around his face. Ones with your head thrown back as you top him, ones where you’re arched against the floor, tears streaming down your sweet, pretty little face as his hips rut into your own.

When he accidentally tightens his grip around himself, he imagines just how much better your hand would feel around his length, all small and silky and smooth.

There’s something just so filthy about this.

You are his little friend - his - but what would you be thinking if you knew he did this?

Even so, he can’t help remembering just how right it felt to have the soft curve of your ass nestled right up against his crotch, and then he’s speeding up with helpless, lewd desperation.

Your lips, all glossed and plump and parted to glorious perfection swim in his mind as he fails to stifle a sharp groan. The thought of them brushing over his own, over his chest, wrapping light and tight and warm around his length does him in with searing speed.

His release, spilling hopelessly and copiously into his tightened fist, blazes with the hot shame of it.

Aonung has felt this familiar embarrassed self-disgust before, quite a familiar after effect of these nights filled with thoughts of you, but this just feels so much… more.

Your words come to cross his mind again; “Why would people be attracted to me?”

The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.

But that wasn’t entirely satisfactory, because Aonung was fully prepared to murder anyone who had the foolish balls to pursue you.

His little friend.

That same blazing shame doesn’t go away after a restless nights’ sleep.

Aonung wakes up, amidst the unwelcome sunlight filtering into his marui, to find that he can’t bring himself to face you quite yet. Of course, it’s just his luck that when he drags himself up to deal with the impatient hammering at his entrance, he’s met with you.

“Morning!” you say chirpily, which tells him clearly that you’ve mostly forgotten the events of the night before. “Tsireya’s forcing me to come to the beach, and I refuse to go without you.”

Aonung’s about to make some lame excuse, based loosely of his clan duties and his tiredness, but then your words process.

“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.

“Yup.”

And that does it.

Aonung has been trying to get you to come swimming for months, and he has to fight that little twinge of jealousy that it’s Tsireya that finally managed to convince you. However, when you bound away to where Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are waiting, Aonung finds himself following thoughtlessly.

You’re chatting animatedly with Kiri and Neteyam, and Aonung allows his eyes to quickly wander over you as he trails behind the group.

You’ve changed out of your short black clothing, though Aonung is delighted to find that once again, you aren’t hiding as much of your body as you typically do.

The little shorts you are wearing are just that. Little. They barely stretch over the curve of your ass, and ties of bikini bottoms are poking up out of the low waist. The top you’re wearing – a simple white tank – is also perfectly tight enough that Aonung can see the faint outline of a triangular bikini top.

The part that nearly makes his knees buckle is the slim line of your stomach visible between your top and shorts, where he can see the perfect soft squidge of your figure, and the little jiggle of your thighs with every step you take.

When you make it down to the beach, sun warming your skin and the soft ocean lapping against the sand surrounding you, you manage to surprise him further.

You don’t follow the others immediately into the water. You unbutton those little shorts and shimmy them down your body, before reaching up to tug off your top.

Oh.

Fuck.

You really had been right; Aonung had no idea how conspicuous he was.

Suddenly, after all that training of mastering himself, he simply cannot wrench or drag or tear his gaze away from you. Instead, he stands awkward and gaping like an idiot at the sight of you almost completely bare.

After so long of needing his imagination to picture you like this, seeing your body this gloriously bare could damn well killed him. In fact, Aonung’s sure even with your tawtute senses, you would surely know his heart just stopped, his blood heating, his brain stalling.

But you just shoot him a cheeky, knowing grin before innocently asking, “What?”

“Nothing,” Aonung clears his throat, painfully aware of his flushed face. “Should- uh – should we get in?”

You just roll your eyes at him and race in. He doesn’t watch the sway of your body as you slowly go into the water. He doesn’t need to resist the urge to just pick you up again, maybe even help you with your breathing.

He supposes he should be impressed with your swimming, but your size and ill adjustment to swimming in the ocean – especially beside na’vi – slows you down, and eventually he ends up just offering you a hand. He highly suspects that you’re not even swimming, just allowing yourself to be pulled leisurely through the water, but he isn’t going to complain.

You have this adorable little look of awe on your face, as though you thoroughly regret only now coming swimming after months of being begged to. Aonung faintly wonders why you never did come.

After a while, you all swim back to the shallows. The Sully’s, Rotxo and Tsireya are all running and splashing around, and Aonung notices you struggling to tread water (he notices with a small smile that you can’t reach the bottom).

“You good there?” he grins, wading over to you.

“Yep,” you huff, kicking up to keep your head at least above the water.

“Need a hand?” he snickers. “You look like you’re having a little trouble. Do yo-”

“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.

The moment he’s in arms reach, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled your legs tight around him. You huff a little for breath, resting your face in the crook of his neck, warm breath fanning across his sensitive skin.

Tsireya looks over, and she shoots her brother a small, knowing smile. Aonung just rolls his eyes back, but he finds himself shifting you around his body so he can somewhat cradle you – your body wrapped around his side, supported lightly by one of his arms.

“You know,” Kiri says with delicate mirth, “we should be heading back soon, right Ro?”

“Yeah,” Rotxo agrees, looking equally happy at the sight of you (even if unintentionally so) cuddled against Aonung. “You coming Neteyam?”

“We’ll come too,” Tsireya grins, tugging Lo’ak along behind her.

You watch them all go, still slightly breathless. Aonung has a small suspicion you know exactly why they’re leaving, but you make no effort to shift away from him, and you wave them off.

Tsireya has to give Lo’ak and extra hard tug to pull him away. The Sully boys’ brotherly protection has always been a reason Aonung kept the truth away from you, but he thinks at this point he really just is completely conspicuous.

“Are you alright?” Aonung asks, pulling back slightly to push your head from your face.

And suddenly, he notices something.

There’s none of that fierce, bantery spark that blazes between your eyes. Instead, you’re just staring at him with complete and utter… something.

Aonung has never wanted more that you had a tail and na’vi ears so he can better gage your thoughts, but you’re just completely unreadable.

Your eyes are raking over his face; he can feel their trail burning into his skin as though you were physically touching him. You’re inches away.

He clears his throat.

No no no.

Eventually, you tread out of the water to stretch in the soft sand cast into relieving shade, beneath the shelter of the tropical canopy. Aonung lies down beside you, throat feeling strangely tight.

There is something different. Something off.

And there’s a sinking feeling that tells him things just won’t go back to normal. Which is why he decides he needs to settle this out.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says quietly, staring up at the canopy above.

It’s green.

You give a little hum of acknowledgement.

“What for?” you reply quietly.

“For causing a little scene,” Aonung says quietly.

He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.

“Right.”

“And cutting you off,” he adds in a mumble.

He thinks there might be several birds hiding between the spindly, delicate fronds.

You don’t reply. He still doesn’t risk a glance at you.

“And for upsetting you.”

There’s another moment of silence. Aonung swears you must be able to hear his heartbeat. You exhale slowly.

“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.

Aonung turns to look at you. You’re also looking up at the canopy, wet hair spilling over the sand, body glittering with the droplets of water still shining on your skin. You swallow.

“You aren’t?” he asks, trying not to sound too relieved. You shake your head slightly, still not turning to meet his gaze.

“Nope,” you sigh, wearily popping the p. “It’s just- um… why did you do it?”

“Do what.”

“The whole thing,” you say, gesturing in front of you. “Of protecting me and making sure I didn’t make a mistake. Plus the… the um…”

Aonung stares in disbelief. He’s never seen you go this long without loudly and shamelessly voicing your opinions. The struggle to get out a single sentence is really quite unnerving for him.

“The whole kill him if he touches me thing,” you blurt in a quick breath, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet his.

It’s Aonung’s turn to blink. He does so in owlish silence, watching the light filtering contentedly through the canopy above while his mind works furiously to find a legitimate answer to your question.

“You are small,” Aonung says finally, carefully tiptoeing around the truth, but really, any more time to think is quite unacceptable given the length of his ponderous silence. “And delicate and sweet. I do not wish anyone-”

“I am not weak,” you interrupt, a small frown on your sweet little face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He swallows heavily. Those words feel suddenly painful in his chest.

That’s who he was – he protected you, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was the one that stood by you, stood over you, and that warmth and shade he cast over you meant so much more than you thought.

Eywa, how well he could protect you if you let him.

You must have noticed how those words hit him – how his ears drooped and tail swept dejectedly through the sand.

“Aonung?” you say quietly, propping yourself up on one arm and staring at him. “Is there something bothering you?”

“No,” he says, far too fast to be believable. Your mouth twitches in a wry smile, and you scoot closer.

“You always were a terrible liar,” you whisper. At Aonung’s bitter little huff, your smile widens slightly, before fading entirely. He wants to do anything to bring it back. “At least - you could never convince me.”

“Fine,” Aonung mumbles, resigning himself to the fact that there’s no going back.

He knows you know something’s wrong, and he can tell that this friendship is already crumbling away into something else – something unintelligible and unfathomable to him.

“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”

You flinch back, and Aonung wonders faintly if it’s because of the name, or his words, or the harsh desperation with which he spoke them, and he reaches slowly for you. You lean back from him, face twisted with confused hurt.

“Then who is?” you say dully.

“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.

Once again, he has no idea how to gage your feelings. It’s strange really, that he’s gone from how lustful and filthy he was last night to how just overwhelmingly… fluffy he feels right now.

But apparently you aren’t finding his words how he intended them, because your face is twisting in a very obvious scowl.

“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.

Aonung isn’t stupid, he sees the way your eyes are narrowing to indicate the very clear correct answer to your trembly question, but then again, he is stupid when it comes to you.

“You don’t need anyone.”

Instantly he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Your chest seems to swell and your face flushes as you sit upright and glare at him.

“Right,” you snap.

“Have I upset you?” Aonung asks slowly, wondering what he did when his brain feels as though it’s made of jelly.

“Nice observation sherlock,” you huff. “You’d want me to end up all sad and alone with no one to love me, just so I don’t fuck some of your clan mates? What, are you jealous or something? Do you think that you’d be that much better?”

No sooner are the words from your mouth then Aonung’s body betrays him – reacting before his mind can process. But the way he flinches back and flushes makes you freeze, and your eyes widen.

“Well…” he stammers, trying to dig himself out of this stupid hole he got into. “Yes?”

“And why is that,” you huff, standing up on your little legs, barely at his height and fist balled with rage. “You really think you’re that much better than everyone else? I thought you got over your cocky entitlement phase but now here you are, desperate to show that you’re the biggest, hottest thing in the clan.”

Aonung’s brain is too muddled to think. This is all going so, so wrong.

“No!” he says quickly, so desperate to try and speak properly that his voice comes out as something of a shout. You look shocked for a moment, flinched back from him, and he instantly reaches towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“You know,” you say stiffly, stepping out of his reach, “I thought you weren’t like this anymore. God, I wasted so much time, and you only ever started noticing me in this way when you found out I – as an adult woman by the way – was not some little … celibate fucking nun!”

“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.

You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a furious growl, then let out an unnerving laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?” you snap. “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met! I thought we grew up, that not everything would be a competition and we could have a mature friendship if we could never be… UGH! But you are genuinely the most infuriating, entitled, interfering, emulous ass I’ve ever had the misfortune to befriend! I mean what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Aonung says, frowning.

“Well there obviously fucking is if I love you!”

You freeze. So does he.

Your words – irrevocable, irreversible and so gleamingly inescapable hang in the still, tense air.

The beach is completely empty albeit the faintly lapping waves and drifting shade of the trees, and of course those words. The ones that change everything, break everything, ruin the friendship you have spent years building.

Aonung just sits in dumbfounded, perplexed silence. Breath after breath. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe, and in the strange, almost reminiscently ironic moments he takes to try and figure it out, you’ve turned faintly green, flushed deeper than the flowers above you, then paled in blunt mortification.

“Oh god,” you whisper, covering your face when your brain kicks in and you remember to move. Aonung still hasn’t said anything, and even though he can see that’s breaking you, he just isn’t able to speak. “Please… say something skxawng.”

Silence.

“Oh god,” you say again, shaking your head, lip trembling slight. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m just going to-”

“I love you too.”

“Please just forget- wait what?”

There’s a moment when everything stops. The sea seems to stall, the wind dies and the canopy stiffens. Aonung notes that your hair is still being blown gently in some absent breeze.

Your eyes look slightly red and slightly wet and your lips are parted in surprise. The longer Aonung stares at you, the deeper that little frowning furrow between your brows grows. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thumping – so loud and fast that under different circumstances, he may have even been worried about it – but he can’t summon any thoughts into his brain.

“Since when,” you whisper. Your voice is nothing more than a trembly breath, and if Aonung hadn’t been na’vi, if he hadn’t been watching you so intently to gage that your lips moved, he would have still been trapped in this tense silence.

“Since fucking forever,” he groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be all smart and all-knowing when it came to romance and crushes and shit.”

“Just because you are completely and irrevocably stupidly oblivious,” you scoff, “does not make me a genius in comparison.”

“So we’re just two little lovestruck idiots, then?”

“Guess so.”

There’s a moment of silence before it really does process to both of you. Aonung’s head snaps up, eyes wide and lips stretched with a fat dopey smile only to find yourself already launching yourself into his arms.

When he catches you, he’s sure he’ll never be able to let you go. Your hands reach to cup his face, which seems comically large in comparison, smiling in delighted disbelief before you let out a small, wet laugh.

“God, I love you.”

Aonung doesn’t even respond- barely even processes your words beyond a surge of overwhelming ecstacy, and presses his lips to yours.

Fuck.

Eywa.

How had he managed to go this long without this.

All those moments staring at your lips meant nothing when compared to the actual feel of them; soft, warm, tentative at first as you brush them over his own. There’s something so sweet about you, and he has a blissful idea that you’re melting on his tongue.

Aonung can feel those last tenterhooks of your friendship splintering and tearing apart at the feeling of your lips against his.

Well, good riddance.

Aonung’s hand finds its way into your hair, hand resting steadily on the back of your neck. Your mouth is small, cushioned by those soft warm lips, but you open your mouth wide and eager, hungry and tentative and exploratory and everything in between.

You’re making all these little huffy noises, as though desperate for breath but unable to pull away from him. When your smooth, small body shifts to press itself closer against him, Aonung groans unrestrainedly into your mouth, and he swears to Eywa you could kill him.

When he’d imagined this – during those late nights hidden deep in his marui fisting his cock – you’d been different. Sometimes you’d be sweet and nervous and tentative, at others you’d be desperate and ravenous and impatient.

Nothing could have prepared you for this, not even his copious, overwhelming dreams and hopes and desires for this. Nothing could have readied him to have you here and now, lips against his, tongue pressed against his, bodies tight against one another.

He’s so hard he thinks he might actually die, but he’ll be damned to pull away to deal with his own needs. All that matters now, all that exists right now is you, your scent, your lips, your body all beside him and around him and so hungry for him.

When he’s worried you’re quite about to suffocate, he slides his lips sideways to press hungry kisses along your jaw. You let out small, breathy gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, arms clinging tight around his neck to steady yourself as his lips find their way steadily back to you.

As your lips smash onto his once more, Aonung marvels at the way his hand – splayed out to hold you up – spans across the whole damn length of your back. When his fingers lightly trace their way up your spine, you shiver against him, soothed by his hand carding gently through your hair.

Your tongue licks lightly over his fangs, and Aonung, surprised, jerks back at the strange sensitivity. That felt different, and he wonders faintly how in all the meaningless, irrelevant kisses he’s shared in his lifetime, that’s never happened before, or at least made him feel so sensitive.

“You good?” you smile against his lips, but he suspects it’s more of a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless and completely inflamed. “Yeah… I’m good.”

Your tongue teases over his fangs again. When he moans shamelessly back into your mouth, you giggle and cuddle him closer. Aonung laughs with you. It’s an almost painful relief from the overwhelming heat of the moment.

You’re still breathing heavily with that wide smile on your face when you stop giggling, but when Aonung meets your gaze, he can’t read your expression. He thinks for a moment you’re going to push him back, tell him to slow down, but then your gaze darkens ominously.

“Let’s get back,” you breathe exultantly.

“Why-”

“Because I don’t really feel like fucking for the first time with you on the sand of an exposed beach,” you grin.

“So we’re going to fuck?” Aonung asks hopefully, the corners of his mouth curling with delight.

“Up to you,” you grin, standing up and backing away from him in the direction of the village. “I mean, you could stay here in the shade, listen to the pretty birdies and watch the ocean-”

You cut off with a delighted giggle as Aonung sweeps you up as though you weigh nothing and tears off towards the village.

He ignores the stares of the clan as he storms his way towards his marui, though he must admit you must be quite the sight – you nearly completely bare in your little swimsuit, bundled up in his arms and shifty smiles stretched wide across your faces.

He practically crashes into his marui, not bothering to slip his way through the woven entrance but bursting through it and kicking it carelessly back into place with his tail.

You laugh – sweet and clear and loud – as he tosses you against the bed and crawls over to you. There’s barely a thought in his brain than you, with your breathy little gasps and hands raking through his hair and soft, warm lips.

When he buries his nose in the soft, exposed crook between your shoulder and neck, you jolt in surprise. You smell so sweet. Aonung wonders vaguely if he’s in heaven, surrounded by your arms encircling him, buried and deluged in your warm, sweet scent.

He’s extremely pleased to note you’re already starting to smell like him – a faint trace of sea breeze and amber noticeable on you, but he isn’t about to stop until you smell of nothing but him, until every person in this clan can see his plain mark on you, know that you are his and his alone.

And then he can’t stop himself from sinking his fangs lightly into that warm exposed skin.

You instantly squirm underneath him, arching up against him with a surprised gasp. You are just so soft, and his teeth sink with impossible ease into your neck. No sooner has he done it then he’s lightly licking the small pearls of blood away and pressing a light kiss for good measure.

And then he does it again. And again – adorning you with a necklace of gleaming ruby bites, better than any jewellery he would make, prettier than any pearls or shells he would collect. He doesn’t know if you understand them, that claim and those marks, but he’ll make sure you know that you’re his.

“Aonung,” you gasp, gripping at his face to tug him away and force him to look at you. “Aonung!”

“Yes?” he asks, slightly irritated you stopped him from continuing.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with the desperation of your gasps, face flushed in glorious exultation.

“Not yet tsawksyul,” he says. A small glare is forming in your eyes, and he nearly laughs at your ravenous impatience. “You are not ready yet.”

“Yes I am,” you snap, scowling at him. “I’ve taken na’vi men before, just-”

“Patience,” he whispers, hand reaching up to rest against your face, thumb brushing over your frowning lips.

You look like you’re about to shout at him when Aonung’s hand leaves your face and finds it’s way to the little knots on the side of your bikini.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then you’re nodding with irritated fervour, and he pulls lightly on the strings and slides away your bottoms.

Fuck.

His eyes are glued to that paradise between your legs, the one he’s been dreaming about for months. Vaguely and almost unconsciously, he decides when he dies, he’d prefer this heaven over anything else. His eyes quickly flicks up to you, and you must see something in his darkened, suddenly insatiable gaze, because your face is quickly flushing and your legs are squeezing shut.

“Do you want this tsawksyul?” he asks in a low voice, retracting from your body slightly so you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Ye- yes,” you mutter, face turning an adorable pink colour.

“Are you sure,” he presses gently, reaching out to direct your gaze back to his. “We can do something else- we don’t have to-”

“No!” you gasp, eyes widening at those words. “No- I want this.”

“You have to tell me,” Aonung whispers, pressing a kiss to the perfect plush of your inner thighs, “if you don’t like anything. You have to say if you want to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you breathe, and he grins.

When he finally dives between your legs, it’s without the intent of ever resurfacing. You let out a surprised little gasp as he muscles his way between your pretty thighs, forcing them further apart from that meager gap you thought would satiate him.

He licks a long, tantalising stripe up your puffy lips, eyes practically rolling back at the sweet, heady taste of you, exploding over his tongue just as he spent so long dreaming about. At your reaction – accidentally bucking your little hips into his face with a choked gasp – he can guess you hadn’t been expecting the rough texture of his tongue.

He looks experimentally up at you, and you glare straight back with an impatient, expectant look on your usually sweet little face.

Fuck yes.

He sucks lightly and you practically shriek, hands tearing for something to grab onto. Unfortunately, your fingers find purchase closing around his hair – curls and kuru and all – and you tug.

Neither of you expected that groan ripped from him, the sound vibrating against you in a way that has your eyes rolling and moaning in glorious response. Aonung, who had already thoughtlessly been rutting his own hips against the ground in search of any salvation from that insatiable ache in his core, does not miss that warning heat start to coil in his abdomen.

But ever set on pleasing you, he does not lapse for a moment and ignores his own unravelling as you continue to desperately tug at his kuru. You’re already squirming and gasping for breath – only making hungry little moans and letting slip little gasps of curses and don’t stops.

He, in fact, has no intention of stopping soon. Not when you’re making all these pretty little noises, not when your own pleasure – the sounds and taste and scent of it – is nearly tipping him over the edge.

He can tell you’re close, and that’s what prompts him to slowly slide a finger into your soaked heat. With a choked moan your hand fists tighter around his hair. Aonung marvels at just how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you struggle to adjust to his finger.

He vaguely revels in the thought of how amazing you’d feel, wrapped all tight and warm against his cock, and he moans into you.

When he knows you’re about to tip over the edge, when your eyes are rolling and your moans are becoming less words and more desperate pleading noises, he circles his tongue around your clit and sucks.

You come undone with a cry, clenching around his finger so much he can feel your whole heat aching against his ravenously laving tongue.

It’s only when your thighs (no doubt of their own accord) shut tight around his face in a glorious squeeze of soft, perfect squidge.

He isn’t sure why that’s what does it – though it is paired with your tugs on his kuru and his mindlessly rutting hips – but then he’s also pushed over that brink with a snarl you hardly even notice, too high on your own cresting pleasure.

But he has no time for shame or mortification at his early release, never even touched by you, because really, it’s a marvel it hadn’t happened earlier.

You’ve barely come down from your high when you notice Aonung still buried contentedly between your closed thighs.

“A- Aonung,” you pant, left breathless by your orgasm and the glorious sight of your best friend, all perfect and pretty, having the goddamn time of his life.

His only reply is to lightly tap the side of your thighs and mumble against your aching cunt, “Open these a little wider for me, tsawksyul.”

He vaguely notes your mouth drop open in surprise before he’s diverting his full attention to that heaven between your thighs. Your little huff of impatient is batted with your own gasp, but you – stubborn as ever – continue the struggle of attempting speech, “You-”

“Just one more,” he coaxes, licking another long stripe so his tongue catches on your overstimulated clit. Your defeated little groan is music to his ears, and a wide grip is stretched over his face as he victoriously resubmerges.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before your second is hurtling nearer with haphazard enthusiasm.

You’re whining and squirming from the overstimulation, but your desperate moans are punctuated with little gasps of don’t stop and encouraging tugs on his hair.

Aonung’s moaning into you, enjoying this quite as much as you are. His hands are holding you close by your soft plush of your thighs, tail sweeping and thumping behind him as he inevitably grows rock hard again, spurred by your euphoria.

All that exists is you. You’re so fucking wet, practically soaking into his mouth. All he can see and hear and taste is you, hips rutting against his face, hands clawing at his hair, head thrown back and moans spilling out of your gleaming, parted lips.

His jaw is aching in delicious wearing. The pain is satisfying in a strange way, and he contents himself with the knowledge he’s working.

It isn’t exactly best-friendly; the thoughts he’s having. He sincerely doubts his brain has never been this filthy, flying through all the lewd possibilities while he has you here.

“Aonung!” you slur out, thighs twitching over his shoulders as you near your high. “you need- slow down - ‘s too much.”

“You’re doing so well,” he hums against you, still maintaining his steady (and somewhat overzealous) pace.

Again, when he notices how close you are, he sucks your whole cunt into his mouth, tongue lapping at your little swollen clit as he sucks hungrily at you.

Then once again, your thighs are tensing and your moans are slurring into unintelligible whines. Your grip on his hair is iron as you gasp your way through your second high, eyes wide and lips parted as you heave for shaky, desperate breath.

Once you come down, you push at his head, tugging his hair away from your overstimulated cunt and trying to pull him back up to you.

“God- Aonung!”

Finally he relents, sitting up with a delighted little grin. You are also wearing a stupid little smile, though you look distinctly dazed and ruffled. Aonung feels a little surge of pride.

“Oh my…” you gape, eyes wide in bewilderment as you scan over him. His face is all shiny and gleaming and slicked, and you let out a little giggle as you reach out to try and wipe some of it away. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry.”

Aonung laughs with you, not in the least bothered by the mess of his face. Instead, he takes your hands in his and peppers light kisses up your arms and back towards your neck, where he is pleased to see his various gleaming bites and hickeys ornamented into your soft skin. You giggle again.

“Aonung?” you ask gently, a small smile curling at the edge of your voice.

“Mm?” he grunts, nipping another ruby bite into your collar.

“Care to fuck me now?”

Aonung pulls away an inch, trying to hide his obvious arousal as he studies your rosy grinning face.

“Are you sure?” he questions gently. “I mean you just-”

His voice dies in his throat when you reach up lightly to – tortuously slowly – pull at the strings of your top. He watches the top slide away without breath, and only when you’ve impatiently tossed it aside and grinned at him does he dare to move.

A complete sense of unreality washes over him. After imagining this moment for so long, it seems strange he cannot think of anything to do but worshipfully admire you.

He is pleased to note that, in fact, your breasts are just as soft and plush as the rest of you. They are round and full and slightly squishy in a way completely unlike na’vi, and he’s never been gladder that your aren’t just muscle, that your small body is so perfectly squidgy.

With a nod of consent from you, Aonung reaches lifts you lightly up to place you over his lap. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest, still looking a little rumpled and dazed, but he doesn’t miss that dark, mischevious gleam in your eyes as you stare down at him.

The second you’re balanced, your hand is reaching out to the tent of his tewng. You study him with greed, drinking in the sight of his arousal as though it’s what you need to live. He’s a little mortified now, but he hopes that you think the slick of your hips slightly rocking against his is why his tewng is soaked.

Your hand reaches out to trace along the edge of his tewng, eyes dark with frustrated, hungry impatience.

“Oh baby,” you whisper, your mouth twisted in strange ecstasy as you meet his flushed gaze. “Was this all for me?”

Before he can answer – though he doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak with you settled so perfectly over him – your hips slide back a little so your little palm settles right over his hardened length.

“Take these off.”

“Are you su-” Aonung starts to say, before you rock right up against his pained length and his voice stumbles off.

“Yes,” you whisper impatiently. “It’s not fair that I’m here all naked and you still get clothes.”

“I’m basically already naked and you wear clothes that cover much more than mine every day,” he protests.

“What, do you want me to get you a hoodie too,” you snap, and he knows you’re growing more frustrated and impatient with the effort of grinding against him.

He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.

“Just take it off Ao, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Those words practically punch a whole in him, and he feels another surge of unbearable affection for you, which is promptly murdered as you stop your movements in protest.

“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.

“Not properly,” you press. “I want to do it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your hips rock hard against his, your bare cunt against his cock covered by that ridiculous tewng, and he feels his self-control slipping away. You must sense it too, because you’re grinning and shifting up to help him pull the last restraint between the two of you away. The tewng is thrown away with careless abandon to lie somewhere far away; there are no clothes needed here.

The small gasp you let out when you finally see him all bare and desperate and hungry makes Aonung’s heart thud painfully in his chest.

“Fuck yes.”

Your words explode from you as though you didn’t mean to say them, and a moment later you’re flushing with hot embarrassment. Aonung laughs lightly and you smile bashfully with an adorable little nose scrunch, before he’s lifting you back onto him again.

It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.

He needs to breathe for a moment, ears flattening against his head and eyes falling shut in dark pleasure. You’re so soft – thighs either side of him, breasts bouncing at the slightest movement – but you’re also so wet and warm and slightly sticky that he thinks you’re killing him.

It becomes painfully evident to him that the moment his cock pushes inside you, he’ll be fighting for his life to not come instantly. Again.

He always knew patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you’re growing more and more frustrated and he finally pulls his babbling brain together enough to flip you over to lie beneath him and align himself to your entrance.

With a small, almost pleading cry from you, with his heart thudding loud enough for you to hear, he presses in.

You’re clenching around him so tight, barely even an inch in. You’re tighter than he ever imagined, and he feels like he’s being coddled in searing perfection, so much so that he can hardly breathe as he slowly starts to push in.

When you let out a hoarse whine – the stretch is evident even to him – Aonung winces. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and the thought of you in pain is too much for him to bear. He settles himself with pulling you against him, soothingly stroking your hair.

He can’t look away from where you’re swallowing him whole. It’s a fucking addiction, a new drug. Even the sight of you slowly struggling to take him would be enough to send him over the edge, and he grits his teeth so he doesn’t come instantly and mortifyingly. Again.

And then finally, Aonung’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance and into your velvety heat.

He’s dying. He has to be. Because there’s no damn way he didn’t just go to paradise.

The breath is punched out of him in a low, desperate growl, his hands clawing into the ground to steady himself, to let you adjust, to not just completely lose his mind and bury himself deep into you.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice no more than a desperate, filthy whimper as you look down. The sight of the bulge in your stomach drives Aonung fucking crazy, and he has to physically grip himself back from just slamming straight into you. “You’re all the way here.”

“Taking me so well syulang,” Aonung praises, eyes hazy with the strain and face flushed in the euphoric pleasure of your body around his. “Doing so good for me.”

He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him at the praise, the way your cheeks blush and you bite back a small, helpless moan. A good thing to know for later, and he makes a mental note to shower you in so much praise you don’t know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, he can hardly breathe through the effort of holding himself back. You’re gripping him so damn tight he thinks you might actually strangle him, the overwhelming pleasure and anticipation practically choking the breath out of him.

Your face is all twisted and screwed up, and Aonung doesn’t need to be a genius to see you’re in pain. He holds you close, whispering endless praise of how well you’re doing while reaching down to rub gentle circles on your overstimulated clit as he continues the painstaking, tortuous ascent into the heaven between your legs.

“Oh god,” you whimper, resting your limp head against Aonung’s chest, heaving for breath as you try your utmost to adjust to him. “Oh god, Aonung.”

The sound of his name rumbled from deep within your chest, coarse and raw and desperate just tips him just over the edge of mastering his control. His muscles tense as your nails dig into his chest, hips flexing somewhat and accidentally knocking into you, and you let out a strangled cry.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, reaching to cuddle you in close, stroking your hair comfortingly. “You’re doing so well, tsawksyul.”

The words fall on practically deaf ears. You’re so flushed and radiant and ravenous that he doubts you’re even thinking straight, your face adorned with a somewhat manically exultant smile and rolling eyes as he slowly presses even further into you.

You’re clenching around him so impossibly tight, whimpering and moaning as he rocks several more inches into you. He doesn’t know what to make of your quiet sobs, whether they’re of pain or pleasure or just hungry impatience, but he comforts you nonetheless by settling his thumb gently over your clit.

Aonung couldn’t care less about how vocal he is, whispering endless praise, snarling out small curses, rumbling desperate groans against the skin of your bare neck, which is now adorned with gleaming hickeys and several smug little bites.

“Eywa, they didn’t do anything to deserve you tsawksyul,” Aonung groans, still rocking another inch into you. You give a weak, wet chuckle, and he presses a kiss to your shining forehead. “You don’t need any of them ever again, you got that? You won’t ever need anyone else.”

“Ye- yes.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he groans, hardly even aware of what he’s saying anymore. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be there with you.”

“Ao- Aonung?” you gasp, steadying yourself with a grip on his arms. “I wa- I want-”

“I know, I know,” Aonung soothes you, finally bottoming out inside you. There’s no way he would have fit all of himself in there, but he isn’t greedy, particularly when the part you could take is coddled so warm and wet and tight. “I’ve got you.”

It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.

It’s with gentle words and a hand splayed out across your back to steady you that he pulls out an inch or so before rocking back in.

The effect is instant. You let out a strangled, lewd, filthy noise, eyes widening to round moons and mouth opening in almost dumbification. He makes a deep groan in response, pulling out again, pushing back in again, and the last pretences of friendship are shattered.

His lips find their way to your face, forehead clumsily pressed against your much smaller one, hands holding you gently – a softness at complete odds to the way he’s fucking you.

It feels sinful – the way this is so perfectly right, to have his best friend like this, all pretty and babbling and teary on his thick length.

He moans shamelessly every time his gaze passes over you – all stretched and beautiful – around him, taking everything he gives you.

The sounds you’re making are mingled pleading and sobbing, still shot through with greedy hunger. Each moan and whine and sob strike deep in him, hand in hand with the tears forming in your shining eyes.

Eywa, you’re so much tighter than he ever imagined – ever dreamed of. He’s pretty sure he tells you, but those words are lost in the stream of mingled praise and groaned curses pouring from him as he revels in the pleasure of you and you alone.

The sight of your tits bouncing at each thrust is hypnotic, and then finally his restraint is crumbling, and he dives eagerly forward to take one of them into his mouth.

You arch with a surprise cry as his mouth locks around your breast, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple, fangs trailing over your soft skin now slightly shining with the heat of his mouth. He ignores the contortion for him to do it – all discomfort is disregarded at the sounds of your pretty little whines.

He knew from the start he wasn’t going to last long, but he can see that you clearly aren’t going to either.

Your eyes are rolling, heaving for breath in the rare moments you aren’t cursing or babbling or moaning. Your hands and clutching for support, anything to cling to, something to anchor yourself so he doesn’t almost fuck you straight through the bed.

Aonung vaguely acknowledges (in some dimly functioning part of his brain), that perhaps he might be a little worked up. He’s wanted this for so long, thought about this so many times, imagined and replayed and perfected the vision of this moment, that there’s no slowing down now.

Nothing – not one of his filthiest imaginations, not one of his raunchiest desires – could compare to this. To you.

And then your mouth is opening in a hoarse, desperate cry, your fingers are clawing into the tensed muscles of his shoulders, your cunt is clenching so tight around him it’s bordering on sinful pain.

He reaches to rub circles on your poor, swollen, throbbing clit, and you practically scream.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh god-” you sob, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“I know, I got you,” Aonung whispers against your sweat-damp skin. He doubts you can even hear him, and he isn’t even sure he’s physically speaking all the words rushing through his brain.

It seems to almost go forever, and there isn’t a single second in which Aonung wants it to stop. You look so pretty writhing beneath him, clenching around him, panting for him, sobbing because of him, and when it finally seems to slow down, his own pleasure crests.

He’s grinning against your throat, so fucking pleased with himself. He’s so proud of the way you took him that he’s actually about to die, and when he moves to pull out, your nails dig into his arm and you shake your head furiously.

That’s that.

It all snaps in a final sort of conflagration, waves of pleasure and delight and ecstasy and overwhelming, unbearable euphoria rocking over him, over both of you, as he loses control and buries himself with a positive roar in your still clenching warmth.

He’s hardly aware of where he is, though he can vaguely hear moans and whines and curses he guesses may be his, though he can see himself filling you up to the point it’s spilling out the sides and onto your soft, shining thighs.

Aonung just allows himself a moment of selfish indulgence, of sinfully glorious exultation. Nothing matters, nothing even exists, beyond you.

When he flops onto you, shaking with heavy breaths, exultance coursing through his veins, he doesn’t bother to pull out.

You’re still so tight and strangely comforting all wrapped around him, pulsing in the glorious, tortuous aftershocks of your final climax. You don’t protest – though he’s careful to angle his body to not completely crush you.

You let him lie in delighted, satiated silence, tail sweeping happily behind him on the woven floor, head pillowed against the soft curve of your breasts, dimly admiring all the marks he left across your smooth skin.

You’re also trying to steady your breath, absently anchoring yourself to the present by fiddling with the woven cord of his necklace. Aonung notices the curved tooth is almost as large as your whole hand, and a stupid surge of affection wells in his heart.

Here you are, the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen, his best friend, seconds after the most lewd, intimate moment of your lives. What did he ever do to deserve even befriending you, let alone be your personal blanket after he may or may not have fucked you damn boneless?

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, when he’s regained enough breath to properly process your limp, heaving form.

You smile weakly and shake your head, saying, “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good,” Aonung grins, shifting to nuzzle closer against your soft skin. “You won’t need anyone else ever again.”

“Oh, really?” you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you can’t stop smiling. A moment later your hands are moving to cup his face, and he smiles back at you.

“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”

You don’t respond to his question for a moment, staring at him with lips parted in absolute disbelief before a loud, delighted laugh is rocked out of your little body. He frowns, confused.

“What?”

“You just fucked me near boneless,” you laugh, stroking his face affectionately, “and now you’re asking if you can kiss me?”

“Yes…?” he replies, brows furrowed. Your laughter fades and a small smile is left on your small, rosy face.

“Yes,” you smile, cheeks crinkling and eyes bright with strangely overwhelmed joy. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

And he does.

Different to before, not just full of lust and hunger and deep-rooted desperation fuelled by months of desire and affection. This is gentle, sweet, and a soft embodiment of all the warm fluffiness he harbours for you, his little tsawksyul.

He can feel your lips smiling against his own, your little heartbeat thumping against his chest as he cuddles you closer, arm wrapping protectively over you and tail draping lightly over your legs.

Then you’re giggling against him and he’s laughing with you and all the heaviness of the moment before is fading.

He realises that there had been a small naggling part in the back of his brain, wondering what would happened when you finished, when the heat and desire was gone, worried that perhaps it was just the arousal or something that was attracting you to him.

But this is the same then ever – albeit you’re naked. And in love.

Aonung smiles.

“I love you.”

You whisper the words back against his lips, legs wrapping around him to snuggle closer. He faintly dreads the moment you’ll have to pull away, but contents himself to the fact that he can cuddle you again tomorrow and the day after.

So he settles back, peppering you with kisses and light praise. After a few moments, when your breath has properly returned, you exchange some happy prediction for everyone’s reaction to you and him. He finds he couldn’t care less.

Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.

His little friend.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Tagging my darlings: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)

#aonung fanfiction #aonung x reader #avatar fanfiction #aonung fic #avatar smut #aonung x female reader #avatar #aonung #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #aonung x human reader #aonung x human #avatar x human reader #friends to lovers

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roosterforme · 7 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was deploying, and your insecurity started getting the best of you. He wanted to leave provisions for you and Noah, but you didn't want him to think you were taking advantage of him. As you initiated role playing and goodbye sex, you realized you were trying to guarantee he'd be thinking about you as much as you would be thinking about him. But Bradley was considering a lot more than that.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 6500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

With just a few days left before your boyfriend's deployment, you found yourselves touching each other at every opportunity you were given. When you cooked meals, Bradley's hands were on you as he stood behind you, whispering sweet nothings or amusing commentary. After Noah was in bed, you were undressing each other. And all of the times in between, you and he were holding hands or sharing kisses with such earnest sincerity, you didn't know how you'd make it weeks without him.

There was a small part of you that feared Bradley was expecting round the clock sex before he left. How were you supposed to keep a deployed boyfriend faithful to you unless you let him do whatever he wanted? You'd heard horrible things about guys in the military. Yet he wasn't initiating sex with any more frequency than before. And when he said he wanted to snuggle with you, that's exactly what happened.

You spent most of your time in his arms, just talking about what was important. "We should figure out these jobs, Princess," he said one night, sipping a beer on the couch and patting his thigh.

You were frustrated and having a hard time deciding which job was best for you, but as you settled down in his lap, the tension melted away. Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and when he pressed his lips to your neck, you stole his beer and took a sip.

"What are you thinking?" he asked softly, running his fingers leisurely along your body until you handed him back his beer.

You sighed. "I know which job I want, but I don't know if it's the best decision to make right now."

His eyes were so sincere, you could tell he was focused on your every word even though you were straddling his thigh. "What are you unsure of, Baby?"

"I just..." you said, trailing off and looking at the scars on his neck. "I have a lot of loans to pay back. I did everything by myself after I turned eighteen. And the job at the hospital pays more."

"You said you'd constantly have different shifts. Sometimes you'd work at night?"

"Yes," you confirmed. "So I wouldn't get to see you and Noah as much after your deployment. Between my commute from my place, plus the times I might be staying here, I'd be in the car a lot." You wanted to move in here with them permanently. Your place felt like a rental; his felt like a home. But you were hesitant, still concerned he would think you were trying to take advantage.

Bradley examined your face, his expression neutral as his hand on your body pulled you a little closer. He sipped his beer before finishing the rest of the bottle and setting it aside.

"I don't want you to worry about your loans," he told you as his other hand settled on your thigh. "We got that covered, okay?"

"But-"

"No," he said a little louder, cutting you off. "You want to take that job with the private practice. I know you do. You told me days ago that it seems like a better fit. So what's holding you back?"

Your gaze dropped to his chest as you muttered, "The loans."

"Stop talking about the loans, Baby. Pretend they don't exist." His voice was a little rough, and you had to squeeze your thighs around his leg to keep from moaning. "And while we're at it, let's assume you'll be doing all of your commuting from right here."

"Right here?" you asked, trying to make him laugh, because he sounded very serious. "From your lap?"

He pulled you close with both hands, and you squeaked, bracing your hands on his shoulders as his lips met yours in a hard kiss. When his tongue slipped between your lips, you tasted his beer. He was relentless, with one calloused hand at the back of your neck, as you moaned against his mouth.

He released your lips, but kept you so your face was centimeters from his. "Right here. My house. My lap. In my arms. This is where you belong. Okay? You take the job you want more, Princess. And I'll take care of the rest."

"Daddy-" you gasped, already feeling the need to protest.

He rubbed his fingers along your neck, and you let your forehead rest against his. "You do so much around here, and you ask for nothing in return. Stop arguing with me. Accept the job you want. It has better hours. It's closer to Coronado. Sure, the pay is a little lower, but it has great benefits, which will help in case we ever have a baby."

"Oh," you gasped, kissing him before you really realized what you were doing. You knew another child was something he had been thinking about. He told you he would be excited if you got pregnant. But just knowing that's what he was thinking about right now was making you a little lightheaded.

A minute later, he had you underneath him on the couch. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips and breath were just barely almost touching your neck. You needed more, but he wasn't going to give you anything else until you gave him some answers.

"You gonna call and accept the job you want?"

"Yes," you gasped. "I'll call them tomorrow."

"You gonna stop worrying about your loans?"

You hesitated, and he started to pull away. "Yes," you whined until his nose brushed along your sensitive skin.

"You gonna move more of your stuff in here?"

"I will, Daddy," you confirmed, and you were rewarded with the soft pressure of him sucking on your pulse point.

"That's a good girl," he praised, pushing your shirt up and kissing your belly. "I want you here. You can have as much space as you need. Nothing is off limits. Tons of room up in the attic."

But you were barely listening as his fingers found your zipper, and then his mouth was on your pussy. You realized as you started begging him to make you squirt that in a lot of ways, Bradley was more cunning than you were.

------------------------------

When Bradley was leaving for work the next morning with Noah in his arms, you were dressed in one of his old shirts and sipping coffee from his Trust me...I'm a pilot mug. He was delighted to hear you say you were heading up to the attic. You claimed you wanted to see how much room was available to store your textbooks, and he thought that was a very good sign. Then he reminded you that you could sort through anything you wanted, but not to throw away anything pertaining to Noah without running it by him first.

You kissed Noah before reaching up to kiss Bradley as well. Then he paused to grab his checkbook and you snorted.

"What?" he asked. "I need to pay the daycare for this month."

"You can pay on your phone. Using an app." Now you were raising your voice like he couldn't hear you. "Do you want me to show you how, grandpa?"

Bradley kept his expression neutral as you giggled and almost spilled your coffee. "First of all, my name is Daddy. Second, I don't like using apps for everything. And third, I was going to leave you my checkbook so you could pay Noah's tuition next month. But if you're going to make fun of me-"

You kissed his lips with a big smile on your face. "I can pay with a check next month," you assured him. "You better go before you're late. I love you, Daddy. Love you, sweet Noah."

Then Bradley dropped Noah off and continued to base. He had one of those days that was just too busy for no reason, and he wasn't getting anywhere with the things he needed to get done before he left for deployment. Your credit card hadn't arrived yet, and Tracy hadn't contacted him about the order of protection paperwork.

"Hey," Jake drawled, walking over to annoy Bradley during lunch when he was trying to read the texts you'd sent him. Apparently you found an old polaroid camera in the attic and wanted to know if you could mess around with it.

"What do you want?" Bradley asked Jake while he let you know you could do anything you felt like.

"Just wanted to see if you were going to need any help with Noah while you're deployed."

"I would sooner trust my child to babysit you than the other way around," Bradley replied with a smirk.

But Jake was undeterred as he smiled and said, "Nat told me your babysitter is going to be all alone at your house, watching your kid. Just thought maybe I could swing by and check on her. Give her anything she might need."

Two months ago, Bradley would have been ready to throttle his coworker. But now he just smiled back. "And what do you have that you think she might need?"

"I can think of one thing," Jake replied with a shrug.

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I've seen it in the locker room, and I doubt she would be interested."

"Well, maybe I'll let her decide for herself while you're away."

You wouldn't even humor Jake, and Bradley knew it. You promised it would never happen. You'd barely even spoken to him when you were at the Hard Deck. You belonged with Bradley. But the idea of another guy with his hands on you, fucking your sweet pussy...he didn't like thinking about it at all. Especially not Jake.

"Enjoy the rejection," Bradley snarled as he went to get some lunch.

Now he was annoyed. Jake could get under his skin too easily, and he was in a bad mood because of it. And to top it off, Tracy told him she had no updated information when he texted her. He just wanted to get home to you and his son and his delicious dinner that he would clean up after.

When he picked Noah up and carried him to the Bronco, he was already whining for you and some ants on logs. "Honestly, bub, I feel like whining for Princess, too. Let's just get home."

When Bradley got home and unlocked the front door, you called out, "Hey, boys!" You weren't even in the living room, but the sound of your voice excited him. He and Noah both ran for the kitchen where you were pulling a lasagna out of the oven that smelled so good, Bradley's stomach growled louder. He recognized that you were wearing the dress you had on the day he met you, and your lips were glossy and perfect. "Hi, Daddy."

Fuck. He couldn't wait to get his hands on you later. Pull your dress up and kiss off your lipgloss.

"Hey, Baby. How was your day?" he grunted.

"It was so good!" You had one of Noah's brand new coloring books out with some crayons, and you pulled out the chair for him to sit. "I moved more of my stuff in. I hope you don't mind," you said with a little smirk.

Bradley looked at you with one eyebrow raised and gently backed you up to the counter. "Mind? You know I'd be happiest if you moved all of your stuff in here." Hadn't he made that clear? He wasn't about to change his mind about you.

"I know," you whispered, draping your arms casually around his neck and kissing him. You just wouldn't give him a firm answer either way, which was infuriating. "I also accepted the job that we talked about."

He grinned as you kissed him. "You excited?"

"Very. I start a few days after you leave."

"Damn," he whispered. "I won't even get to be here to drive you on your first day and pack you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch."

You giggled as Bradley ran his hands down along your dress. And then Noah asked, "Princess? Can I have some ants?"

"Lasagna first," you told him. "Then some ants."

Bradley cleaned the kitchen after dinner while you played on the driveway with Noah and the bucket of sidewalk chalk. When he came back inside looking cute with pink and green chalk smudges on his face, Bradley took a few photos of him before escorting him to the bath. "Why don't you relax, Princess. I'll get him in bed."

"I'll be in the living room," you told him with a coy smile before you kissed Noah goodnight. Bradley watched you walk away, and he knew you had something up your sleeve.

He tried not to be impatient, but by the third book, Bradley insisted Noah close his eyes and go to sleep. "Seriously, bub. It's time. Love you."

"Night, daddy." And as usual, his son was asleep before he was out of the room. Bradley pulled the door closed and made his way into the living room where you were standing, waiting for him with a smirk on your pretty lips.

"Daddy," you whispered, and he was right there kissing you.

He grabbed your ass in both hands, and between kisses he asked, "Did you use the old camera that you found?"

"Mmhmm."

"Did you take some dirty polaroids?"

"Yes," you replied, suddenly pulling out of his grasp. "But those are strictly for you to take away with you."

He grunted in approval and watched the thin strap of your dress as it slid down your shoulder. But when he reached for you again, you backed away and shook your head. "What?" he whined. "I wanna fuck you, Baby."

Your teeth sank into your plump lip, and you moaned. "I know you do, and so do I. But I have an idea. And I think you might like it."

"You gonna tell me?" he asked softly.

Bradley was plainly hard in his jeans, and when he put his hands on his hips, you glanced down and grinned. "Okay... I've... never done this before," you whispered, and he throbbed for you. "But I thought you might enjoy some... role playing?"

His brain short circuited. All of the thoughts in his head were gone as you worried your lip with your teeth. It suddenly made sense why you were wearing that particular dress. Role playing. Role playing. You wanted to try some role playing. With him. Right now.

"Tell me more," he rasped, and you took a step closer to him.

"Well, I already know you have a thing for your babysitter..."

"That's an understatement," he whispered, his voice harsh and his heart pounding.

"You can be as rough as you want," you whispered. And then he watched you take a deep breath before you cleared your throat. "Oh! Mr. Bradshaw! You're back early. I already put Noah in bed for the night."

You were looking up at him with a somewhat nervous expression as you ran your index finger along your bottom lip. Oh fuck. You were going to let him role play all the filthy shit he thought about when he first hired you to babysit for him.

"Hey, thanks for watching him tonight. I know it was short notice," Bradley said, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, somehow looking even more innocent than you usually did.

"I didn't mind at all, sir. I like babysitting your son. And I... like it when I get to see you, too."

Oh hell, you were too good at this already. And when Bradley reached out to run his knuckles softly along your cheek, you whimpered softly. "I like getting to see you, too, Baby. Getting to look at you was the best part of my day."

Bradley watched you run your fingers down your neck and across the tops of your pretty tits which were on display in that dress. "You're so handsome, Mr. Bradshaw. I think you're sexy."

When he took a step closer, you turned away from him shyly, gazing up at him over your bare shoulder where the strap had fallen down. Bradley got as close to you as he could without actually touching you, and he whispered, "You're gorgeous. Will you let me touch you?"

You whimpered for him. "Yes, sir."

Bradley slowly wrapped his hands around your hips and pressed himself against your ass. "You always smell good. Like wildflowers." He pressed his lips to the side of your neck. Jesus Christ, had he been thinking about this shit from the beginning with you? Pretty close to it. He couldn't believe you were letting him get away with this.

"Sir?" you whimpered as he brought his hands around to the front of your body, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

"Tell me," he whispered next to your ear, tasting your neck before brushing his mustache along your pulse point. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," you whispered, and Bradley's lips paused.

He kissed you once and cleared his throat. "Princess, can we crank that age up a little bit?" he asked, out of character now. "I mean, it's bad enough that you're only twenty four."

"Okay," you replied with a soft laugh. "I'm twenty one, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Twenty one," he grunted, kissing a path down to your collarbone where he licked you, grinding his erection against you. Then he spun you in his arms so you were facing him. "Pretty face like that, you could get any guy you wanted. Make them do anything you wanted them to do. Love you just the right way."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he brushed your neck with his fingers, and it didn't seem like you were having to try too hard to play along. Which was great, because Bradley was loving this.

"I don't know about that, Mr. Bradshaw. I've only ever kissed one boy before."

Bradley grunted and wrapped his hand around the front of your neck, angling your face up and stroking your chin with his thumb. "What else did you do with that boy?"

Your eyes were wide as you whispered, "N-Nothing, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Nothing?" he asked, cock throbbing as he waited for you to answer.

You just shook your head gently and said, "No, sir. I'm... I'm a virgin."

The way you were so goddamn convincing was really fucking with him. He would have believed you if he didn't know better. But he was ready to beg for it right now. "Baby," he groaned, wrapping his fingers around to the back of your neck. "I don't want you to think about him anymore. I want you thinking about me." Then he rubbed his nose along yours and listened to the pretty sound you made. "You gonna let me kiss you?"

"Yes."

His lips met yours, and everything felt familiar and yet totally different. You weren't his girlfriend right now. You were his new, virgin babysitter he was about to fuck the living shit out of. Bradley pulled you close, let you really feel his hardness against your belly, and you moaned into his mouth.

"You're so sweet, Baby. You gonna let me take you to bed?"

"I want you to, Mr. Bradshaw!"

"Fuck." His hands were up under your dress, easing it higher and higher, confirming you wore no underwear. He kissed you rough and hard, his tongue tangling with yours before he pulled your dress over your head and dropped it onto the floor. Then he proceeded to touch you everywhere. Every pinch of your nipples and soft caress of your ass had you grinding your pussy against the front of his jeans.

"Daddy!" you whined, and oh, that didn't sound like you were playing along at all.

He pulled your bottom lip between his and sucked on you as he pressed his fingers to your clit. You were soft and silky. "You're so wet for me." And as he slipped one finger inside you, he whispered, "You gonna let me fuck you, Baby? Show you what you've been missing?"

You looked up at him with parted lips and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Will you be gentle, Mr. Bradshaw? I'm so nervous."

"Oh yeah, Baby. I'll be so gentle." Bradley had no plans to be gentle with you tonight, and he took one of your smaller hands in his and guided it to the fly of his jeans. "I'll stretch you out and fuck you slow. Take you for my own. Make you mine."

You were clinging to his shoulder and riding his hand as you rubbed him. "Mr. Bradshaw," you whined softly. What a sight.

Bradley pinched your clit and asked, "You ever sucked a cock before?"

Those pure, innocent eyes were back, and when you shook your head, Bradley started pushing you down to kneel in front of him. "Good girl," he crooned. You watched him unzip his jeans, and you licked your lips. When his cock was free of his underwear, you gasped.

"I don't know how," you said, and Bradley almost laughed. You were so good at sucking his dick, it was just impressive.

"Just give it a try," he whispered, and you took him slowly between your lips. "You're smart. Such a good girl. I'll teach you."

But he didn't need to, because a minute later, you were expertly giving him head and running your own fingers through your pussy. It was mesmerizing, and he tried to stay in character. "That's it. Nice and slow. Suck a little harder. Perfect."

He didn't want to cum in your mouth, even though it felt so good. So he hauled you up to your feet and said, "I want you to show me how you touch yourself in my bed."

You nodded and said, "Okay, Mr. Bradshaw," and then he was carrying you to his room. Once he had you on your back, you came apart further at your own touch, and Bradley started stroking himself.

You moaned and said, "I think you would do a better job, sir. You always make me cum with I daydream about you."

Bradley smirked and spread your legs wide before he lowered his face down to your pussy. You pushed your wet fingers back into his hair as he got you clenching almost immediately. He was going to make you cum on his tongue. And then he would fuck you, get himself off with your body just the way he needed to right now.

When he put a little more pressure on your clit, you cried out. He could feel you gushing, and your cum ran down from your pussy to your asshole. "You're a fucking angel, Baby," he grunted, and you just moaned as he kissed along your slit and started begging. "I need to fuck you. I need to feel your pussy. Please, Baby? I need to be the first one inside you like that."

"You promised you'd go slow," you managed to say.

"Of course. Anything you want." He kissed his way up your body until his lips were on yours. "You ready for me?" When you nodded beneath him, he ran his cock through your wetness. God, you were probably leaving a spot on the bed. "It might hurt, Baby." And then he pushed himself inside you slowly until you took all of him

You moaned in pleasure, back arching off the bed as you tugged on his hair. He started out nice and slow, giving you time to adjust. "Think you can take a little more? Get a little rough?"

"I-I think so, sir," you whimpered.

He fucked you hard and fast, and you kissed his lips. "Mr. Bradshaw! You said you'd be gentle with me!"

"I don't think you want me to," he replied, bucking harder against you.

"I-I don't?" you gasped, wrapping one leg around his hips.

"No, that's not how you need it. And you feel too fucking good to go slow. Such a tight little pussy," he growled, pushing your legs wider. "Look at you. Taking me so well for your first time." He was rocking into you harder now. "Breaking you in, just the way I like."

He took your nipple between his lips as you whined, "Daddy."

Then he sucked on you hard until you tugged at his hair. "Come on, Baby. I'm still your boss," he said, withdrawing from your body and getting you onto your hands and knees with your butt in the air. "Let's be professional." He landed a solid smack to your ass and added, "Call me Mr. Bradshaw."

Then he ate you out from behind, his lips and tongue connecting with your pussy until you buried your face in the pillow, your cries of pleasure muffled. God, he was painfully hard now as he got himself in position to take you from behind. As he fucked you, he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently guided you back until your face was away from the pillow. He peppered kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck as he rode you hard.

"Shit, Baby. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, grabbing at your hips as he ran his nose along your spine. The slapping sounds were so pretty, he started losing himself now. But he kept it together the best he could as he asked, "Are you on birth control?"

"No, sir," you gasped.

"You want me to cum inside your pussy? Or on your ass?" He squeezed you there as you whined.

"Please, Mr. Bradshaw. Inside me."

His thrusts were erratic as he felt himself reach his peak. "You better hope you don't get knocked up."

"Oh!" you groaned. "It doesn't matter. I wanna feel you do it inside me."

Bradley filled you up with his cum as he braced himself above you, palms planted next to yours on the bed. As you caught your breath, he pressed kisses to your neck and rubbed his nose along your ear.

"Did you like that, Daddy?"

He didn't know if you'd ever understand just how much he liked that. "Probably too much, Princess." Carefully, he eased you down on your back next to him, and you curled up on his chest.

You yawned and whispered, "It was hot. We can do it again sometime. If you want to."

Bradley kissed you and whispered, "I love you," over and over until you fell asleep.

------------------------

Over the next few days, you had taken to calling him Mr. Bradshaw. Every time you did it, you looked at him like you had no idea why his cheeks were flushed pink. Bradley really loved roleplaying with you. He made sure he told you several times just how much.

But as the days wore on, your insecurity returned. Part of the reason you initiated the virgin experience for him was to try to keep his interest. He was leaving soon, and you wanted some sort of guarantee that he would be thinking about you beyond just your ability to care for Noah. Having a serious boyfriend was one thing, but having a serious boyfriend in the military was starting to make you nervous. What if you weren't enough when he was deployed? What if he lost sight of what was waiting for him at home?

While you were making dinner, he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "Your credit card's here," he whispered, setting the purple card with your name on it on the counter next to the cutting board.

"Thanks," you whispered, suddenly even more insecure. "I can keep track of when I use it, especially for things for myself. And I can pay you back in a few weeks."

"That's not what we agreed on," he said, voice laced with frustration. "Look at me, please." You sighed and set down the spatula and turned around in his arms. He was quiet until you met his eyes, but then he said, "You're smart. I trust you with my kid and my house and my Bronco for extended periods of time. Why would I not trust you with a credit card, Princess? I'm leaving you with a lot of responsibility here, and I need to know that you're buying everything you and Noah need or want. And that includes coloring books, Skittles, pizza, you name it. Whatever you want."

You opened your mouth to respond, but you just kissed him instead. It was hard to get used to the idea of someone caring about you and wanting to take care of you. "I'll just use it for the stuff we need."

"No, you won't," he whispered. "You'll use it for everything. Please."

The way he kissed you had you melting into him. You could probably do what he asked of you, just for two months. And when you finally agreed, you were rewarded with a pretty smile from him.

You whispered, "I just don't want to take advantage of you."

"You're not."

You closed your eyes and added, "And I'm worried you won't be thinking about me."

Bradley froze, brow creased in confusion. "What do you mean?" Then you immediately wished you'd said nothing. You were embarrassed, but he wasn't going to let it go. "What do you mean, Baby?"

"You know... while you're away."

Bradley started chuckling. His shoulders were shaking with amusement as he tipped his head back. His laughter grew louder, and even Noah looked up from his coloring to see what was going on.

"Are you making fun of me, old man?" you asked, elbowing him in the side as he roared with laughter.

"You're a riot, Princess," he finally said, pulling your reluctant body against his. "I don't think about anything else. Just you and Noah on repeat." And then all the laughter was gone from his voice as he ran one big hand down your back. "And isn't that why you pulled out the role play the other night? To try and guarantee that Mr. Bradshaw wouldn't be thinking about anyone else?" he asked softly before kissing along your cheek.

"Maybe," you replied softly.

"Hmm," he hummed, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You didn't need to pull out the virgin babysitter to get that guarantee, but I'm glad you did. I'll be thinking about that a lot. I'll be thinking about you all the time. I went a year without sex before I met you. I intend for you to be my last."

The way you whimpered at his words had you slamming your lips together so Noah wasn't distracted again. But that night, when he took you to bed, Bradley worshipped your body. His lips were everywhere, and he was in no hurry. You had no idea how long he kept you in bed, using his lips and words to get you soaking wet.

"I love you."

"I want you."

"I need you, Princess."

"Let me make you feel good."

"Let me take care of you."

You were at the point of no return when he whispered, "Come sit on Daddy's face."

"Oh," you gasped as Bradley lounged on his back and waited for you with eager eyes. "Won't I hurt you? Or make it hard to breathe?"

"No," he said right away, stroking himself through his underwear. "I'm gonna love it."

As you crawled over to him and carefully straddled his face, he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs. When you lowered yourself down, you asked, "Is this okay?" But Bradley pulled your pussy snug to his lips and ran his tongue along your slit, and after that, you had to work really hard to keep your volume down.

You were shaking with overstimulation by the time you realized what he was doing. When you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your thighs. "But Daddy-"

It was too late. You squirted for him, getting his mustache and lips soaking wet. He lapped you up which made you shake harder. When he helped ease you down on top of him, you tasted yourself on his face.

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered as you ran your tongue across his mustache. "I love eating you out. I love making you cum. I love spending time with you."

You gasped and kissed him softly. "How am I supposed to go without you? How am I supposed to get off without you?"

"Use your hands," he replied. "That's what I'm gonna have to do. Just use your fingers. Or buy some toys with the credit card." He paused before adding, "That's actually a really great use of money. You should buy some toys."

"Stop trying to be my Sugar Daddy," you whispered, lounging on his chest and playing with his hair.

"I don't want to."

Good. You kind of didn't want him to.

-------------------------

The weekend went by in a blur. Bradley helped you move more of your clothing to his house so you'd have it on hand when he was gone. He wrote out phone numbers for Penny, Maverick, Amelia and Nat. And then you called him old and poked fun at him for handwriting something you could have just added to your phone. And then he kissed you until you were moaning for him and insisting he actually wasn't old at all.

He spent the whole day on Sunday with you and Noah. The three of you went to the beach, and Bradley got to see you in a bikini. He insisted on taking some pictures of you. When you got bashful, he whispered that they were for his locked photo album, and he was going to use them in conjunction with his hand.

"You're filthy, Daddy. You can't get enough."

You weren't wrong.

As Bradley built a sandcastle with his son late in the afternoon, you and he went over the final list of things he needed for when he left in the morning. He saw you try to discreetly tuck an envelope into his duffle bag last night, and when he went to check, it was sealed. And you had written For My Daddy on the front of it. It took every ounce of his self control to put it back where he found it and pretend he didn't know it was there.

After the beach, the three of you picked up dinner and watched a movie together, and then Bradley put Noah in bed for the last time for weeks and weeks. He stayed in there a little longer than usual, watching his son sleep and counting his blessings. He had sole custody. You had temporary guardianship. The orders of protection had come through for you and for Noah. Tracy had been correct that he would be denied, but it didn't much matter. He was about to be isolated on an aircraft carrier with only naval personnel in sight. He would be just fine.

And then Bradley fell asleep with your hands wrapped around him and your soft voice telling him you loved him. But the next morning, it was a different story. Noah didn't fully understand what was going on, he just knew Bradley would be gone for a while and that Princess would be staying with him. But you on the other hand had tears in your eyes as you made breakfast in one of your cute little dresses. And you kept your arms wrapped around Bradley as frequently as you could.

"It's going to be okay," he assured you. "You have the orders of protection, and the credit card, and the checkbook. You can use the Bronco. You and Noah have everything you'll need."

You cried and looked up at him like he was very dense. "We won't have you!" The sound of the little sob at the back of your throat made him tighten his grip on you. He wanted to tell you that everything would be fine, and that you and Noah would have each other, but part of Bradley loved the way you needed him.

He held your hand the whole way to drop Noah off at daycare and even while he gave his son a final goodbye kiss. He held your hand as he drove to the shipyard where the aircraft carrier looked enormous in the water. And he was still holding your hand when you crawled across the seat to straddle his lap. God, you were perfect, shedding tears quietly and telling him you loved him.

"I love you, too. We can handle this," he promised, and you nodded as you traced the scars on his neck with your soft fingers.

As he ran his thumb along your cheek and kissed you there, he felt your hands drift down the front of his khaki uniform shirt. "One more time? Please?" you asked so softly as you pressed your core against his rapidly hardening cock through his pants.

Bradley glanced to his left and his right where the parking lot was starting to fill up. "Baby, I don't know if we should-" he started, but you already had his pants unzipped, and you were guiding his length toward your warmth. "Oh, hell."

You guided him up inside you, the illicit activity barely covered by the flimsy fabric of your dress. Anyone who could see would know what was going on inside the Bronco right now, but Bradley didn't care. He loved you. He was going to miss you. And you were sending him off with your sweet tears, lingering kisses and a slow fuck as the sun peaked over the tower of the carrier.

"I'll miss you, Daddy," you whispered, your lips brushing his mustache as his hands found your bare hips beneath the fabric. He cupped your body, guided the soft roll of your hips, and his mind drifted briefly. He imagined filling you with his cum with the added intention of getting you pregnant. He imagined you asking him to do that. He imagined getting married.

"Princess," he groaned, kissing along your chest as your pussy clenched for him. "I need you. All the time." He met your soft eyes as you came undone in his arms, your jerky little bounces drawing out his orgasm as well. There was only a minute left to clean up, and then you and he were walking hurriedly to the dock hand in hand.

He kissed you long and hard, trying his best to leave no doubt in your mind that you were everything. He let you cling to him as long as he could, but then he had to leave you behind with his cum in your pussy and his kiss on your lips. "I love you, Princess!" he shouted from the top of the ramp. "I love you so much!"

Your smile was just for him, and he knew it.

----------------------------

Oh, her nerves are getting the best of her. He doesn't want anyone else. But she thinks she has something to prove to him. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 30

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writinground2 · 6 months

Text

Bad Guy - Leah Williamson

Based on a request for more Angsty Leah

This ended up a lot different and longer than I expected it to. There is the potential for a part two if there is interest.

“Never have I ever, cheated on someone,” Ella spoke.

The lionesses playing the drinking game with water at their team bonding night, everyone spread out in the small hotel room. The night had moved from card games and movies to the game of Never Have I Ever to get to know each other a little more.

A few took bashful sips, admitting their previous infidelity, all looking guilty about their actions. Leah scoffed when she noticed Y/N does not take a sip.

“Seems fitting this is a question you choose to lie about,” the blonde rolls her eyes.

“I’m not lying,” Y/N mutters, keeping her head down, hoping someone else will continue the game and the attention would be taken off her.

Leah opens her mouth to bite back, “whatever,” she sneers instead when Millie sharply elbows her in the side.

The room sits in awkward silence for a moment, no one knowing what to say. Most wanted to ask more questions about the interaction, having never seen the either woman be anything but professional towards each other since their friendship had fallen apart only a few months ago.

“Umm, never have I ever, broken a bone,” Jordan spoke up to end the tense silence. She knew it would draw the attention off Y/N, so many of the players wanting to compete with who had the coolest or worst injury story.

Y/N played a few more rounds before quietly slipping out of the room. No one noticing until they hear the click of the door.

“Time for bed!” Millie was quick to usher everyone out of her before anyone could question Leah about her tense interaction with Y/N.

No one knew the cause of the fallout between the two friends. They had been friends since staring on the youth teams years ago, thick as thieves early on. Then, suddenly, Y/N was being sent on loan to Arsenal from Aston Villa and Leah wanted nothing to do with her best friend. Jordan and Rachel avoided Y/N their first international break after the loan, but seemed fine the next camp, both giving the older girl sympathetic looks. Leah would remain professional with her former best friend, but it was apparent something significant occurred within Y/N’s loan.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled as she almost walked into Leah as she walked out of the bathroom as Leah entered their shared room. Because of course they would be roomed together. Staff didn’t realize the tension in the friendship, leaving them paired as they normally were.

“I bet you are,” her tone saturated with in sarcasm, “nothing but lies coming out of your mouth.”

“I never cheated Leah,” Y/N whispered, standing at the end of her bed, face crumpling while she tried to convey her honesty to the blonde.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I was there that night; we all saw you with that girl at the bar. We saw you fighting with Sydney before you left,” Leah squared her shoulders to confront Y/N, she wasn’t going to let Y/N deny her infidelity anymore.

“I know,” Y/N couldn’t meet the blondes eye, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, “but, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Leah mocked her.

“I know it’s cliché, but It really wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Yeah? So what was it supposed to look like? Because, what it looked like, was you fighting with your girlfriend, then getting into a car of girls, and me being left with your crying girlfriend.”

“I didn’t get in the car,” Y/N whispered, but Leah wasn’t listening.

“That you kicked her out of your house only to show up at Arsenal. Single at that too!”

She glared Y/N down, eyes set, and jaw clenched, waiting for Y/N to answer. Sydney had been Y/N’s girlfriend of two years, the couple living together for one. She had grown close with the blonde, the pair loving to team up to make fun of Y/N. Sydney was the liaison for the marketing company for Aston Villa.

“I didn’t cheat, I didn’t get in the car that night,” Y/N repeated.

She knew how that night appeared to anyone watching on. That it easily appeared like Y/N and her girlfriend gotten into a fight, leaving her at the bar to get into a car full of girls. That she left her girlfriend in another city and moved to another team to avoid dealing with the consequences of her actions.

Leah continued to stare Y/N down, “if you want me to believe that, then what was it supposed to look like?”

Y/N let out a long sigh, scraping both hands down her face. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Leah the truth, but telling the truth also meant baring Sydney’s actions and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.

“I found out after the game that Villa wasn’t going to extend my contract. But they wanted to do whatever they could to squeeze as much money out of me before I left. They told a few teams interested that I was getting re-signed, even though I wasn’t, so that teams would bid for the loan rights. They hoped teams would sign the loan, then get a big transfer fee next season.”

Leah softened slightly, she couldn’t imagine being regarded only as a price tag, “this doesn’t have anything to with you supposedly not cheating.”

“I told Sydney before we went out. She didn’t really understand, hell I didn’t understand it, but she was mad because she thought it meant I was asking to be loaned out. When we went to the bar to get another round, she told me she was going to move out and went back to the table before I could say anything.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed with a defeated sigh, she might as well tell the whole story. She didn’t want to potentially ruin Leah’s friendship with Sydney, but she also couldn’t risk this to continue to put strain on their professional relationship.

“I thought that meant she didn’t want me around, so I decided to go home, let you guys enjoy the night. On the way out, there was a group of girls trying to get their friend in the backseat of the car to leave, but she was too drunk to stand, so I helped them. She got in the car, they left, and I went home.”

“But your car was still at the pub.”

“I walked; Sydney had the keys.”

Leah crossed her arms while she analyzed what Y/N told her. It was possible Y/N helped the group of girls, she always helped people around her. Y/N had hurt her wrist during the game and probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the gear shift to drive.

Taking the older girl in, Leah could see how tired she genuinely looked. How it looked like a struggle to just keep herself sitting upright and bags under her eyes when she would briefly make eye contact.

“She didn’t come home until the next afternoon.”

“She stayed with Jordan,” Leah snapped, she wasn’t going to let Y/N imply Sydney cheated to make herself sound better.

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “Jordan called me that night to yell at me when Sydney showed up there upset.”

Leah smiled a bit, she knew how protective Jordan could be and could imagine the earful she would have given Y/N, “good, you deserved it.”

“Damnit Leah, I didn’t cheat, and I didn’t kick her out!”

Y/N stood abruptly from the bed, frowning. Leah dropped her arms, mouth opening in shock at the sudden shift in Y/N.

“She broke up with me! She cheated! She told she found someone better, more attractive, that she never really found me attractive. I lived in a hotel for two weeks before Villa sent me to Arsenal like I was nothing!”

Y/N begun pacing the room.

“I had to miss training so I could pack my bags while she was at work. She got the house and everything in it and all I have is a couple bags and a few boxes.”

Leah didn’t know any of that. Sydney had told her Y/N kicked her out of the house and she believed it. And she certainly never said anything about seeing someone else. It was starting to be clear that Leah truly didn’t know the full story, or at least, not the true story.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Y/N deflated at the question, sinking back down on the edge of the bed, “she was your friend too, I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Any anger the defender felt was gone now. Y/N had spent months protecting Sydney even though she didn’t deserve it. She had been taking the brunt of Leah’s anger without saying anything for months.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I – “

“It’s alright. It was easier to be the bad guy in her story than fight it.”

Leah made her way across the room, sitting next to Y/N, her whole body pressing into Y/N’s side.

“It’s not alright, you took so much of my anger when you didn’t deserve any of it. You took Jordan and Rachels too.”

Leah sounded astonished when she spoke, realizing how terrible Y/N had been treated. That she tolerated everyone’s accusations and criticisms while dealing with the truth of the breakup and club loan alone. Y/N should have been angry at everyone and should have told them all the truth about her breakup.

“They figured it out when they took her for drinks,” Y/N shrugged and Leah could tell she was trying to detach herself while telling the story, “She showed up with her new girlfriend. I wasn’t even at Arsenal yet.”

Leah shook her head. She was so angry at herself now. How could she believe someone she knew two years over her best friend she had known for fifteen? She had been so blinded by her anger, she let herself be manipulated into believing her best friend would have done anything like that.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Y/N pushed herself up.

Leah launched herself from the bed and into Y/N’s side, pinning her arms in place in a tight bear hug, “I am so, so sorry Y/N.”

“it’s alright, really.”

“It’s not!” Leah pulled away but kept her grip on Y/N’s and forced her to face her, “you went through all of that alone and you let yourself be the bad guy when you shouldn’t have.”

Y/N tried to pull away only for Leah to tighten her grip, one hand clasping the back of her neck so they are forced to meet eyes, “I cannot apologize enough for how I have been to you, but I want to make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me. I just want us to go back to being friends.”

The blonde eagerly nodded at that, letting Y/N pull away this time to settle into bed.

Leah rushed to complete her bedtime routine before sliding into her own bed. She settles on her side to look over at Y/N facing away from her, chest rising and falling steadily, fast asleep.

Incessant buzzing wakes Leah far too early the next morning. Y/N mutters soft swears while frantically trying to silence the device and hide the bright screen to avoid waking her roommate.

The buzzing stops as Y/N throws a hoodie on and is leaving the room as the buzzing starts again. Leah can hear Y/N speaking in the hallway now, she tries to stay awake to make sure everything is alright but sleep quickly wins. Y/N isn’t in the room when she wakes again a few hours later. She gets ready for team breakfast and sits on her bed, waiting for Y/N to return, before rushing out the room when she realizes she’ll be late otherwise.

Y/N is already seated at a table away from everyone when she gets downstairs. She has her knees tucked up on the edge of her chair with her chin resting on them and a coffee cup clasped in both hands against her chest. Even across the room, Leah can see how exhausted she looks.

After making a plate, she begins to make her way towards Y/N but is stopped by a hand tugging her to a stop. Jordan shaking her head ‘no’, telling her to leave Y/N alone for the time being. Leah looks back over, debating if she should listen or not. Sighing, she settles next to the midfielder. They’re friendship just starting to be repaired.

“She told you the truth about Sydney,” it isn’t a question.

Leah nods slowly, unsure why it matters.

“Did you say anything to Sydney when you found out?”

Nodding again slowly, “I texted her when Y/N went to sleep and said I was upset she hadn’t told me the truth.”

Jordan clenched her jaw and nodded too, “Sydney is pissed.”

Leah quickly pulled her phone out to see If she had missed a message, furrowing her brow when she hadn’t.

“Not at you. She’ll take it out on Y/N.”

Her eyes quickly shot over to Y/N. Y/N’s phone was face down on the table, but she was staring intensely at it.

“That was the phone call,” she realized.

The midfielder nodded, already seeming to know what the morning had been like for Y/N.

“Even though they broke up months ago, she still texts Y/N almost every day. She’s,” Jordan pauses while she considers her words, “cruel with everything she has to say.”

“What do you mean?”

Jordan glances around the table, when she sees no one is paying attention to them she continues, “at first, she was mad Y/N wouldn’t stay her friend. Then it was that she turned Rachel and me against her. But it’s mostly attacking anything about her; her looks, her career, mocks her for being single or being upset with what happened. She’s truly ruthless.”

Leah is disgusted when she hears what someone she considered a friend was doing to Y/N. Guilt settling deep in her gut at how wrong she had been about the whole situation. Jordan can see the thoughts she once had pass across Leah’s face while she watches Y/N toss her phone back down.

“Rach and I thought the same too. She was convincing when she told us what Y/N supposedly did, I think she believes it herself that she didn’t do anything wrong. She was confused when we didn’t understand how she had the house and a new girlfriend while Y/N was stuck in a hotel in a new city.”

“How long did she have to stay in a hotel once she got to London?”

“She’s still in a hotel,” Jordan shakes her head. She knew Y/N had been so battered down, that she didn’t think Arsenal would keep her around long enough to make a flat wroth it.

Fortunately, there isn’t much time during the day for players to be on their phones. But during the breaks they do have, Y/N slinks away from the group to skim her few new messages. Each time she returns to the group, Leah can see her force a smile on her face, convincing everyone around she is fine. She does manage to put on a good show of being alright, but Leah can see right through the fraudulent smile and forced laughs.

Y/N’s phone vibrates on the night stand that night while she goes through her nightly routine in the bathroom. Leah ignores the first message, only for several more to follow, glancing at the screen she sees Sydney’s name.

“Sorry, I meant to silence it,” Y/N apologizes, and she takes it off the nightstand.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the defender dismisses her, “Jordan said she’s pretty mean. I didn’t know she still messaged you, if I had, I wouldn’t have texted her last night.”

Y/N glances at the blonde, nodding slowly, before shrugging her shoulders while she skimmed the new messages and typing out a short reply before tossing the phone onto the bed next to her.

“Jordan only read them because she thought I was seeing someone,” Y/N gave what almost looked like a genuine smile, “my phone kept going off while we were out once. She stole it, thinking she would get some juicy messages. Once she saw what the messages were, she went through most of them.”

“I know I have no place to ask this, but can I see them?”

Leah could see her tense and bite her lip, clearly considering the question.

“Why didn’t you ask me about what happened that night? Or trust that I would never do something like that?”

The blonde nodded, they were valid questions, questions she had been considering since the night before.

“She was damn convincing. You weren’t you that whole night, then she came back to the table crying and you were outside with some girl draped all over you. It was all so believable, she made it believable.”

Y/N risked a small glance towards the other bed. Leah had propped herself up on an elbow, staring intently at Y/N. She couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, a mixture of pity and guilt maybe.

“I never thought you could do something like that. And she was so convincing. I was just blinded by my anger that I let myself be fooled. I am so sorry that I let myself be tricked and ruined our friendship when I should have just asked you.”

The pity was gone, guilt settled across her face.

Y/N wordlessly handed her phone across the space between the beds. Leah pushed herself to take the phone, settling on her back to read the messages.

Leah read the most recent messages first, slowly working her way backwards. Reading the vile things Sydney had been sending Y/N throughout the day, Y/N offering short messages to amend her ex’s anger.

Y/N fixed her gaze to the ceiling, unwilling to see the blondes reaction as she read the messages, unwilling to see her agree with Sydney.

The phone dropped after a minute of her reading the messages, Leah unable to finish see anymore, disgusted with the things sent. The messages all varied in length, but they all attacked Y/N in every capacity that she could. She criticized anything she could to get a reaction from Y/N.

Leah pushed herself to hang her legs off the side of the bed. She didn’t know what to do with herself, didn’t know what emotion was the strongest right now. Part of her wanted to storm out of the hotel and confront Sydney. Part of her wanted to wrap Y/N in the tightest hug possible and mend all the broken pieces. All she could bring herself to do was sit with her head in her hands.

“I, Y/N, fuck,” she could only stutter out, “I don’t even know what to say. Those are, she’s, those are all so fucked.”

Y/N shrugged, “is what it is.”

“it’s not! What she’s saying is so wrong and fucked up!”

Anger overtaking as she stood up, harshly running her hand through her hair, “you need to block her!”

“I can’t,” Y/N whispered.

Leah just looked at her, mouth opening and closing.

“I blocked her on socials and she lost it. When I tried to block her number, she took it out on Rach and Jords, messaging them and all that. She left them alone when I unblocked her.”

She shook her head, Y/N continued to protect everyone but herself.

“They can handle themselves; you don’t need to protect them.”

Y/N stubbornly shook her head, refusing to accept that, “they don’t need to be part of this.”

Leah couldn’t believe Y/N was willing to continue to handle this all on her own. She sat herself on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently placing a hand on her thigh, encouraging her make eye contact with her.

“I don’t have it in me to fight anymore, I never really did,” Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, shoulder rounded in, “I didn’t fight the breakup, I gave her the house, I didn’t fight anything she told people. I just want to be done with it.”

Her voice trembled, tipping her head back, hoping to keep the tears from falling.

“Looking back, I think she broke me down years ago.”

Leah’s heart ached as Y/N spoke, “I am so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I should have been there for you, I will be here for you.”

Leah eventually made her way back to her own bed, but sleep wouldn’t come, lying on her side watching Y/N tucked into herself. She couldn’t imagine how Y/N had handled the last months completely alone, while also having people viewing her as the bad guy in the story. Guilt rocked her, she was one of those people.

Y/N’s phone remained quiet the next day and Leah could see the relief it left Y/N with.

“You know, you and I are friends again,” Jordan spoke up when they were alone at their dinner table that night.

Leah furrowed her brow and slowly nodded, agreeing with the statement.

“It would be alright if anything started with the two of you,” Jordan gave her a small smile, “Gee told me how disappointed you were when Y/N started seeing Sydney a couple years ago.”

Leah blushed, anxiously running her thumb along her bottom lip, risking a glance to Y/N the table over. Jordan wasn’t wrong. She had been disappointed at the start of Y/N’s relationship. Her feeling had developed when Y/N had been such a good, supportive friend for both her and Jordan when they broke up, even before they broke up, supporting them when it became rocky.

It hadn’t been something she had expected to happen. She didn’t even know what it was that she was feeling, only realizing her attraction when Y/N excitedly told them about her new relationship at an international camp. The distress at the announcement, she immediately understood she was attracted.

“You would be really good for her. She needs someone to be good to her, and I think that’s you.”

“I didn’t even realize what I felt until I heard she was dating someone,” Leah felt a little defensive as she spoke.

Jordan was quick to place a reassuring hand on Leah’s arm, “it’s alright. I know it’s all new for you. And I’m not saying you should do anything about it. Just pointing out that you would be good for.”

Leah bashfully looked away, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it at one point, she’d also be lying if she denied it being more than once.

“Last time I could get her to say anything about dating again, she said she swore it off because she doesn’t think she’s worth it anymore.”

The weight in her gut gets heavier the more she’s told about Y/N the last few months

“But I think she’s just waiting for someone to prove her wrong about it all.”

Leah is amazed at how easily Y/N can move past the months she had been treated so horribly. They easily return to being friends. The guilt is still weighing on her, but it eases slightly when she sees Y/N genuinely smile at her. Her attraction surging back to the front of her mind.

“Fuck!”

Leah rushes out of the bathroom when she hears Y/N’s phone hitting the wall. Y/N’s pacing aggressively, harshly running her fingers through her hair.

“What’s happened?” she picks up the phone, inspecting it to ensure it isn’t broken, placing it on the dresser.

“Arsenal cancelled my hotel room. I’m homeless when I get back to London.”

Leah jolts when Y/N kicks the bed.

“Good thing I don’t have any stuff to worry about,” she lets out a humourless laugh, kicking the bed a few more times.

After one last kick, Y/N crumples to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head between them as sobs wracked her body. Leah rushes to her side, pulling her tight to her chest. Y/N doesn’t fight the action but keeps herself curled into herself.

“You weren’t supposed to find out that way.”

Y/N scrambles away.

“Shit, that sounds bad,” the blonde stays on the floor, “Arsenal cancelled your room because you’re going to move in with me. I was going to tell you once we got in bed, I just called them after dinner, I didn’t think they would tell you so fast.”

Y/N whirls around and stares down at the defender. Leah slowly pushes herself off the floor.

“You need a home Y/N, I want to give that to you,”

When Y/N doesn’t say anything, Leah frantically thinks of anything to say to fix it. Y/N crashes her body into Leah and the blonde can feel the tears soaking her shirt. She’s sure she’ll have bruises on her side where Y/N is gripping into her. Managing to pull a handout to rub up and down Y/N’s back as her sobs continue.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Y/N pulls away, using the sleeve of her hoodie to try and wipe the snot smeared on the blonde’s neck.

Leah shakes her head, batting the hand away to pull her back into her, “you don’t need to be sorry or say anything. Just come live with me. I have a spare room; I want you to come stay in It.” Once Y/N nods, Leah guides her to lay in her bed, tucking her in.

The first week living together is awkward. If it wasn’t for the meals left for Leah and the fact that they carpool to training, she would think Y/N wasn’t staying there. Y/N is the perfect house guest, Leah’s house cleaner than when she moved in. But other than seeing her in passing, Leah hardly saw her new roommate.

Leah grabs Y/N’s arm immediately when they walk through the door, preventing her from running away.

“This your home now, too. You don’t need to hide in your room. Unpack, eat meals with me, shower here,” she emphasized, knowing Y/N hadn’t even showered at the flat yet, only showering at the training facility.

Y/N shrunk under Leah’s stare. She had been doing her best to remain as out of site at possible, whatever she could to avoid upsetting the blonde, “I wanted to stay out of your way.”

“And I want you in my way.”

Y/N shook her head, not understanding what she meant.

“I want you to live your life and feel comfortable.”

The next few weeks, Y/N does make an effort to leave her room more, making Leah smile. Y/N waits to eat her meals with Leah now, leaves a pair of shoes by the door, shower products along the tub edge.

“I blocked her,” she whispers between bites at breakfast, “Rach and Jordan did too.”

Leah lets her fork clatter to table as Y/N spoke.

“I am so, so proud of you Y/N,” she grips Y/N’s wrist across the table, her smile wide as her eyes crinkle.

Y/N just shrugs and continues to eat, but Leah keeps her hand where it is with her thumb rubbing across her wrist, picking up her fork to eat with her other hand.

This was a sign Y/N was healing, moving past the torment her ex had been putting her through for months. Y/N was moving in the right direction. Maybe Jordan was right, maybe she was the person Y/N needed to fix all her broken pieces.

“Have you thought of dating again?” Leah risked. She knew pursuing Y/N would require a lot of patience and understanding.

“A little bit, but not in the way you think,” Y/N harshly bit her lip, Leah wishing she could tug it away to safety, “I’m too broken to date, I think. No one wants to be with someone this ruined.”

Leah couldn’t imagine the pain Y/N must constantly be in to think so poorly of herself, to think that she was too damaged and undeserving of someone to be loved.

“You are not a reflection of people who couldn’t love you properly,” Leah’s grip tightens until Y/N makes eye contact with her, “I am sorry Sydney loved you so poorly and made you think you took up space you didn’t deserve and abandoned you and hurt you so badly you think love is an awful thing.”

Worried Y/N will start bleeding if she bites any harder on her lip, Leah does use her thumb to tug it out. She can feel it tremble under the pad of her thumb as she slowly drags it across the flesh.

Y/N runs her tongue over her lip when Leah’s thumb is gone, Leah’s steely eyes tracking the motion. She wanted to run away, worried she might do something and risk moving too fast. Leaving now though would ruin all the work she had done to regain Y/N’s trust.

Leah continues to show Y/N what love is. Opening her car door when they leave for training. Always letting her choose the show they watch. She attempts breakfast, bacon and eggs, but they ultimately end with cereal when she burns both. She increases physical contact; sitting close enough they touch on the couch, hand grazing her back as she walks past, tucking hair behind her ears.

Y/N adores all of it. But it makes her panic. She won’t go through all of this again. Won’t have someone show her love and care, only to rip it all away from her.

So, she runs away. Retreats back into her room. Goes back to leaving meals for the blonde to eat, leaving before the blonde wakes up, meeting her at training.

Leah stands outside Y/N’s room after training, so she knows Y/N’s in there. But this room has been her one safe space since moving in, the blonde doesn’t want to take that away from Y/N, doesn’t want her to feel trapped.

Steeling herself, she knocks on the door, three quick raps.

Y/N doesn’t look surprised when she opens the door. Just opens the door and shuffles back. Leah can see her bags packed on the floor next to the bed and the bed neatly made.

Choosing to ignore the bags for now, Leah settles on the edge of the bed, “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really like you and I was hoping I could ease you into idea of being in a relationship again. Unpack your things, I’ll back off.”

“I liked it,” Y/N whispers, sitting next to Leah, “but, I’m not the guy that gets the girl, no happy ending.”

“You already got the girl though,” Leah’s voice is soft as she speaks, “we can have the happy ending.”

“We can have the happy ending?’

“Not for a long time though, because we have to have a happy everything else first.”

Y/N tugs ones of Leah’s hands in her lap and rests head on her shoulder. Leah drops a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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pinkslaystation · 19 days

Text

If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

You want him, but does he want you? Part 2 :> Word Count: 2.1k

Whatever you did, you always found yourself being a disappoint to your parents.

First, it was getting rejected from the university your parents intended you to go to. Then, it was working at a job that didn't utilise your degree. And now, it's complaint after complaint for being in a 'relationship' with some they didn't approve of.

"Honey, I just don't think he's the right one for you..." Your mother complained on the phone for what felt like the thousandth time this day.

You rolled your eyes exasperatingly, happy that she couldn't see your annoyance through the call.

"Ma...you haven't even met him, I don't see why it's such a big deal, I'm finally out of your hair anyways, isn't that what you wanted?" You argued.

Everyday felt like a battle for your parent's time and affection.

Living under the shadows of your siblings was a pain. Your older sister had pursued a law degree at a top university when you were just in high school, and moved abroad to practice at one of the best law firms in the US. Your younger brother, on the other hand, was in their 2nd year studying Aeronautical Engineering at the same university as the elder. You felt like the odd one out in every field.

And here you are, stuck working in retail even though you complete your Bachelors degree in Digital Technology.

Whatever you did, just was not enough for your parents.

So you saved enough money from your job, took out a small loan and made the decision to pack your bags and move to the Midlands, which was just regionally higher up than where you initially resided in your family home. How funny was it that you were the last sibling to move out?

After weeks of working your ass of at your new 8-6 job...still in retail, one silent evening after taking out the trash, you found yourself coming face to face to your neighbor.

And to say to he was attractive was an understatement. He had a tall tower-like frame, height ranging anywhere from 6'2 to 6'4, his scarred face was decorated with dirty blonde, short yet soft, hair and a slight stubble. His face, though rough, looked almost model worthy and held a permanent angry face, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as if it hurt to open them.

"You got a staring problem, love?" He scoffed at you, the first time your met. You stumbled over your words, eyes wide as saucepans.

"!- we- um..who..who are you?"

The blonde chuckled at you sarcastically, "Your neighbour, Riley, you won't see as often so close that bloody mouth of yours."

And he was right, out of 7 months of living at your new flat, you'd seen him only a handful of times. You often found yourself questioning his occupation, why exactly he hangs out and about the area for a week, then just suddenly just disappears, like a ghost.

You'd learnt from the other residents that he worked within the military, whether it was the marines, the air force or the army, you never knew, until one faithful morning, you found yourself nestled against his broad warm chest, both of you hungover from the block party that all of the residents had been invited to.

"Hmm...mornin'" He grunts out at you, and the slightly reddening marks running down his neck and the bruising hand prints on your waist told you enough about the previous night.

You stiffen next to him, but his rough skin grazing against your skin urges to continue to curl up beside him.

Fast-forward another 5 months, it's been nearly a year of knowing 'Riley' and nearly a year you'd seen anyone from your family. You've always wanted to know how long they would be able to go on without you...and you'd finally got your answer.

You've learnt a lot of things about 'Riley'. For starters, his full name was Simon, though everyone in the building referred to him by his last name (you'd pestered him too much, and he finally caved in and allowed you to call him by his first name). He was almost 10 years elder to you and his striking face was usually masked with a black balaclava or those disposable ones.

"Ma, I'm happy, why can't you just be happy for me?"

"Sweetheart, why don't you come home for the weekend and we can finally meet this man. I mean since you're exclusive and everything."

"We...we're not that level yet-"

"Your older sister's getting married and she's only 4 years older than you.-"

"Why do you keep bringing her up? What's she got to do with this?"

"Honey, listen, me and your father are happy you're with someone. I mean this is the first time someone actually liked you right?"

Ouch.

"It wouldn't hurt to meet the old fella, no?"

Ah, one important part I forgot to mention.

You weren't dating Simon.

In fact, you guys never really established a relationship between the two of you. When he was home from deployment, your evening usually consisted of lazing about after work, wine in hand, Simon walking in, a few words exchanged here and there about his work-

Oh, and the night ending with a good rough fucking.

The morning would come by and you'd walk into your shift, your hickey-adorned chest and neck covered with a black turtleneck although it was the middle of August (and against the uniform policy).

So one night you decided to break away from his dominating kiss, and sit him down for a heartfelt conversation-

"Why'd you want to complicate things," he sneers, "we're just fuck buddies yeah?"

"Excuse me? So, what those 5 months didn't mean shit to you?" You scoffed, rather offended that he looked down at you, just like your family.

"You're old enough to be my kid, what make you think this was gonna go anywhere?" He stands up, lighting a smoke, knowing you hated the stench of his cigarettes in your room. It was always your room, always your flat. You can't remember the last time you even went to Simon's place, if there ever was a time.

"Who has a kid at 10? And why'd you keep fucking me? And I'm 24 fucking years old, Jesus, why does that not go through anyone's thick ass skull?!"

"Calm down love, thought this arrangement was mutual, I've got pent up frustration from the military, you're pent up 'cos no one else wants you-"

"Those nights didn't mean anything to you?"

"You don't mean anything to me." He asserts furiously. You studied him, the glimpse of that comforting man who stroked your back and kissed your forehead post-sex really wasn't there.

The fuck does this guy think he is?

"Get out."

"Done."

And he gets up and leaves, blowing a puff of smoke as if to scent the room. Just like that. Wow, was there anyone in your life that actually cared about you?

All those Wattpad stories taught you that the guy usually fights for his lover, screaming back saying that he won't leave without a fight, arguing that that the pair deserved each other. And yet, here you are, sobbing in the shower, unable to differentiate whether your body is getting soaked from the water or from the river of salty tears streaming down your dull, lifeless face, all because the guy you wanted never truly wanted you back.

You felt used, mainly your body. Rubbing yourself full of soap just caused your mind to flash back to his thick calloused hands massaging every inch of skin.

When you occasionally saw him at the building get together, which you wonder why he even attends considering he just hates and complains about everyone (everyone but you of course), you'd find yourself glued on the spot, lips quivering, tears threatening to spill again- and the throbbing. Man, the throbbing you felt between your legs. If it wasn't for his dick, you'd really be wondering why you craved him so bad, because it's definitely not his nasty personality.

And every time you open your mouth to say something to him, to call him over, to greet him, hell you should be cursing him out in front of everyone, he just stormed out with his head down with what looks like a combination of embarrassment or grief.

Until one night, you get a phone call from your older sister, the unsaved number appearing unfamiliar to you. Your hesitant to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy," She drags out her words, as if to waste time. You can tell your mother meddled in between, "So, I'm having the engagement party by the end of this month, and um...you free to come? No worries if you can't."

You pause, did she even want you there?

"Sure."

"Cool. Um, Mum says you're seeing someone, you can bring 'em if you want."

"Sure."

"Yeah, dunno if it's serious enough but there's enough space in the venue."

"Sure."

There's a pause on the other line.

"Hey can you say anything other than 'sUrE'?" She mocks you. Your eyebrow twitches in amusement.

"Did you just call to brag about you and your fancy ass engagement party? And the audacity to not send an invite, if you don't want me there, just say it. I'm not a baby anymore." You frustratingly answer.

Your sister remains quiet on the other line and you can tell you struck a nerve.

"I- listen I know we never get along but can you please come? Ma keeps mentioning you, surprisingly, and- and we haven't seen you in months, you don't even reply to the memes on the family group chat..."

You blink. "We have a family group chat?"

The rest of the month was empty, and although you were thankful for no more surprising run-ins with Simon, you missed having a warm body next to you. You learnt from one of the residents that he's been deployed for 3 weeks, this particular one shorter than others.

He confused you, Simon. He hated the idea of being in a relationship with you, yet he did 'relationship things' with you. He disliked when people assumed you two were a couple in public, but he always had his arm around you protectively. Not even education was this stressful.

And as much as you wanted to sit and let the misery marinate into your mind, you knew the date of the engagement party was nearing and you knew you couldn't come empty-handed.

By the end of the 3rd week, you knew Simon had come home, recognising the sound of the heavy footsteps entering his flat next door at 3 in the morning, you being awake from all the stress your high-maintenance sister had thrown suddenly at you. But you couldn't help but notice the sound of a softer treads following his. Maybe he got a pet?

That night, you had trouble sleeping, unsure whether it was the stress of trying to impress your family or the light sound of the headboards of next door creaking. That sound was familiar, reminding you when he was over at your place, rocking gently inside of you, though you question why he's not with you this moment. Usually you'd find him at the other side of the door, tired eyes resembling those of a stray puppy looking for a place to stay.

You close your eyes, your mind racing to the thought of the burly man on the other side of the wall rubbing himself to the thought of you. You sink into the bed, disregarding that unignorable pulsating feeling.

Saturday morning come, and you stretched contently, knowing that you finally had the day off from work. But that short-lived happiness dimmed when you checked the unread notification blasting through your phone.

7:29 A.M. #####:- hey listen i meant it when i said i wanted you there. pls come. #####:- it wouldnt just make ma happy but me too #####:- u gotta be there to make look better haha im joking

You had a feeling that she was not.

7:56 A.M. #####:-and uh, bring your guy as well pls, ma's so excited planning this wedding she wants to get started on the next one too lolol #####:- also she thinks your lying :/

Great, now there's actual pressure to bring someone.

Your morning dose of caffeine didn't hit today, as your body feels heavier than usual as you trudge all the way to your doorstep. When the last time you actually left your apartment if not for work?

Forcing yourself to look decently good, you make your way to your neighbour's doorstep, knocking so softly you almost tried again, until the door abruptly open, revealing a wet toweled Simon.

An eerie silence captures the atmosphere, consists of his eyes drinking in your disheveled appearance after almost a month, and yours undressing him, as if he wasn't already standing almost-nude.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, "Listen I know you've been deployed for the past 3 weeks, but listen I need a favour, I know you hate me and don't want to be with me but I really need a date to an engagement party, and I hate men and men hate me so I don't know anyone but you, and here me out, but could you please take some time out of your month to please be my date, I know you don't like me like that, which makes no sense to me 'cos you're in that mask almost the same number of times as you're in me- just please give it a thought-"

There's a cough behind Simon.

A half nude woman runs past you, head down in shame, smilingly guiltily as she tiptoes out of his room. She heard it all, you thought.

You look at Simon, suddenly recollected last night's events, the 2nd footsteps, the headboard banging. It all made sense. You really didn't mean anything to him.

Simon shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

"Surprise?"

its's 2 a.m. as i post this...why do my brain cells suddenly begin to work post-midnight I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

#call of duty #cod #simon riley #simon angst #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost angst #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #ghost cod

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iridessence · 7 months

Text

I would like to take a moment to acknowledge myself and say that I am elated and proud to have manifested some of my major goals since 2018-2019. Basically before then, 2014-16 I struggled with depression and suicidal ideation quite frequently due to not having steady income, as jobs in retail seemed the only available and “safe” options, but long shifts standing at a registers or posts were damagingly hard on my body. In 2017 I got a desk job that set me on the path of financial stability and reduced physical load, which did absolute wonders for my mental health but it was an absolute blight to my existence over time due to terrible management and the usual corporate garbage. I knew that staying there was fine for a time but not sustainable in the long run, so change must come eventually.

also around then, I continued to explore self portraiture and personal style but I really wanted to perform/create Burlesque acts and book them, and invest in and actually have choreography/technique and beautiful costume pieces that looked like the visions refining themselves in my head through research. I was also perpetually struggling in the dating sphere with the deficit of romantic fulfillment that I deeply wanted. and while they weren’t hostile, things were definitely weird with my family (dysfunctional, literal small town energy, upset that I didn’t want to be around them more in the suburbs but lots of interpersonal toxicity and lack of emotional growth).

I knew that in the coming years I wanted to…

quit my soul sucking job and set out to be a full-time or at least professional level burlesque performer, creating the qualitative and classic show girl acts I dream to see on stage

work on the floor at a boutique or mom-and-pop type shop that sells goods or services that are interesting to me, especially aesthetically, such as an antique shop or a jewelry boutique etc., but a place where I could sit intermittently as needed for my physical disability. Also, ideally it would be a position where I could express myself through style at my choosing and it would be received well, and also my hours would not be very early or very late.

find a loving and supporting partner who I could lavish equal amounts of love and support on to, live with and hopefully marry

Achieve/maintain financial stability enough that I have a reduced risk for homelessness and sometimes treat myself to things that I enjoy.

Figure out why the relationship with my family was such a struggle and do things within my power and desire to fix it.

In a world that isn’t a corporate machine devoid of empathy, none of that seems like a tall order to ask… but I live in America so… It took some time, but I’m starting to see the fruits and returns. Honestly sometimes things feel like a blur and I’m not exactly sure I could say there was a huge system to what I did overtime to make it work, but I know the work was there.

As of today, September 9, 2023:

I am a respected professional burlesque performer with costumes I figuratively gag over and acts that come closer and closer to hitting the aesthetic nail on the head for what I want to embody. (I quit that shitty desk job at the beginning of 2019 and haven’t looked back since. Sent a whole ass company wide message with a long and detailed “fuck you” too.😂🙈)

i’ve managed through burlesque, social media work, donations and savings, and —since the global pandemic—,odd jobs and grants/minimal loans, to continuously pay rent and ward off homelessness

I live with the love of my life, to whom I am engaged and actively planning our wedding (we looked at a venue yesterday!)

I’ve helped my mom on the growth of her emotional intelligence and commitment to learning more about values under the race, gender, and sexuality umbrella, as well pushed her to examine the enabling and entitlement dynamics with her adult children that take advantage of her. While my relationship with my brother and sister is not great, my relationship with my mom has been steadily getting better since the pandemic. we had a breakthrough at the beginning of this year where she acknowledged and apologized for guilt tripping me for not being around the family more, when I was (she quoted) “actually protecting myself like she should have been.”

and litcherally within the past week I was offered the job at a local boutique I interviewed with a year ago and didn’t get, and I signed an offer letter to begin work within the month.

To say I’m happy with the way things look right now is an understatement. The world still terrifies me, but I have no choice but to carve out a sliver of its beautiful experiences for myself, and I am doing just that. It may not be perfection, but it’s pretty damn good and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep it that way and make it even better. I am living my ancestors' wildest dreams!!

for anyone reading who might be struggling right now to make things work, I hope you hold on to hope that it can get better. A beautiful life is possible even on this hell scape, even for the marginalized.

#text post #life #faq #long post #well long-ish

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lnfours · 15 days

Note

hi bae I just got here (on loan from football rn 🙏) and I’ve been thinking of sub Lando . love of my life . Who tries it out bc you asked and cuz he can’t ever deny you but actually loves it so much . I just think he’s pretty when his eyes r teary and he’s being edged yall that’s it

i am on my knees for this man, but what’s even hotter is him on his knees for me.

also i hope football was good!! 🫶🏻 also, smut under the cut (18+) pls!!!

lando brainrot? lando brainrot.

“baby, please,”

you had been teasing lando for the past half an hour. precum leaking from his tip, his breaths heavy as he watched you toy with him. when you had brought the idea up to him, he was quick to assume it wouldn’t be that hard. but he was wrong. so so wrong.

“let me touch you.” he moaned softly as your tongue swiped another small lick up his shaft. you looked up at him sweetly, the feeling of him in the palm of your hand making you wetter than you already were.

“okay,” you said softly, “you can touch me, baby.”

he was quick to put his hands in your hair, making a makeshift ponytail as you continued working your mouth along his dick. pressing feather light kisses to the tip. he couldn’t help his moans, he felt too good.

“wanna come for me baby?”

he nodded, “please.”

“come for me, lan.”

you took him back into your mouth and in a matter of a few seconds he was spewing into your mouth. his moans going straight to your core as you swallowed. you released him out of your mouth gently, letting him catch his breath.

“fuck,” he mumbled, “you’re way too good at that.”

you laughed softly, “so it was good?”

“more than good,” he replied before quickly shifting the two of you so now you were on your back and he was hovering over you. he took your hands into his and pinned them above your head, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. you moaned, back involuntarily lifting off the mattress before he pinned you back down with his weight.

“think it’s time for you to see how it feels, hmm?”

#mail time #69dias #lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris smut imagine #lando norris x reader smut #ln4 smut #ln4 one shot #ln4 smut imagine #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader smut

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Note

Okay okay soooooo this is my request. You totally do not have to but I thought it was cute. So Harry is himself and YN is a teacher at an art teacher at a school and he comes to visit them and the kids react to them being a relationship with himmmmm👀

Also I love your writing and I think you’re amazing❤️❤️

Idk about art that much. But music counts as art as well. Hope you don't mind.

Lunch Time

Synopsis: One where YN's students are shocked to see her husband (WC 1365)

More of my work

"Oh my god! Ms. YLN, Harry Styles literally has the same jumper as you!" Mary, one of YN's students exclaimed as soon as she walked in.

"Oh my— that's literally the same thing!" John, the other one from the very corner of the classroom.

YN was a highschool Music teacher, she was a big part of the art department of her school. All students loved her for some reason she never can pin point.

Today she wore one of her husband's jumper, a old brown one with green designs on the hem and the above the cuffs of the sleeves. When she originally picked it out of her husband's side of the closet she never thought it was something he wore in public where he was pictured.

She's been having symptoms of common flu lately after she visited her mum who had flu as well. Her husband being away on a tour from past six weeks. Though he's returning home later today she still felt the meed to put on one of his jumpers. They are soft, they're warm and they smell like him even though they've been washed.

She could not take few days off as she had already taken all her paid leaves to go see her husband at his Manchester shows. She needed that money to pay off her students loans.

YN never in a million years thought her students, who are bery obviously her husband's hardcore fans to recognise his clothes. It wasn't her first time wearing his clothes to work, that's all she wears om days she doesn't feel like dressing up.

"Oh thank you Mary, it's a gift." YN said. "Okay class settle down now." She began with her class her music history lessons. Taking a small five minutes break to go bring her water bottle she forgot at her office like an idiot.

Just as was about to leave her office, she got a text from her husband. He was coming home early when she told him a yesterday that she was starting to feel sick. He'd seen her be sick just once and it was just awful. He took the first flight home immediately after his show last night from France, which was very late in his opinion.

Mister⭐

- Hiya my love.

- I just landed in London

- Will bring your fave lunch today and we can go see a doctor.

- I love you so much! xx

It warmed her heart to see that. She sent him her lunch time.

- Yes, please.

- I'll ask later if I can take rest of the day off.

Mister⭐

- Yeah, do that baby.

- See you soon!

YN went back to her class but dismissed them early to move onto her next class with her headache boring holes into her skull from inside out. Again she had her students pointing out her jumper.

......................................................................

"How is Mrs. Styles doing?" Harry asked as soon as he stepped into her office with a bag of food from her favourite place, he carefully placed it on her desk.

It had been over a good six months of them getting married and he's still obsessed with her calling that name, especially since she had been so adamant about wanting to take up his last name. He's smitten like a little baby kitten.

"I took a painkiller for my headache but I think I still need to sleep on it." She explained, getting up from her chair and metting him halfway around her desk to take upto his welcoming hug.

"Yeah? We'll go home soon, okay?" He caressed her hair feeling her shake her head in agreement to him. "Gimme a kiss before we eat and I take you to go see doctor."

"I'm sick, don't want you to get sick." She lifted her head up to look at him.

"I literally won't get sick." He counter and got his kiss, smearing his lips onto her.

"We can actually go now, I already talked about taking a sick leave for the rest of the day and tomorrow." She shared.

"We can eat first, I know you skipped your breakfast." He made her sit down and eat as he talked about the shows she misses, which were all of them except for the London and Manchester shows. About the One Direction shirts someone threw at him which he brought with him, the other one he saved for her. Just as she was about say something, there was a knock on her door.

"Ms. YLN do you mind if I come in?" It was Mary, from the class earlier.

YN's head shot to look at her husband who looked completely unphased chowing down his noodles with his best chopsticks using abilities.

"What?" He shrugged.

"She's your fan!" She whispered. Having him caught off guard.

"Go on, I don't mind." Was his answer to her surprise.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Come in, Mary." YN called but not before taking another glance at Harry.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your lunch time, Ms. YLN, I needed help with this assignment that—" the girl with blue dyed hair was completely froze to surprise seeing someone at her professor's office she never could have expected. "Oh my god!"

Harry actually chuckled earning a glance from his wife though he had his shy kode switched on there, "What do you need help with, Mary?"

"I, uhhh... I actually forgot..." She stuttered looking back and forth between the couple, printed notes in her hands, "this, this assignment— I'll come in tomorrow."

"No it's alright, I'm taking a day off tomorrow." YN shared, "don't want your assignment to be delayed."

"Oh— okay." She gulped nervously.

YN went back to her chair behind the desk and had her students doubts cleared up. Though it took her long time to realise she probably did not get a thing.

"Email me your doubts, I'll and refer to the sites I recommended." YN said, writing down a couple of referrals for online sites. "It's okay, you can talk to him."

"Oh my god, Harry! I'm such a huge fan!" Mary bursted out pointing at her Fine Line hoodie.

"Thank you so much." Harry smiled shyly.

"Can, can I ask for a picture?" Mary asked but regretted it as soon as she spoke.

"Actually do you mind if we don't? I can write you up a note." Harry suggested instead.

"That's totally fine! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She freaked out.

"It's alright." Harry assured her. YN smiled and handed him a pen and her sticky note pad. Harry scribbled a sweet note for the girl and signed it for her. "Thank you."

"No, thank you so much." Mary smiled accepting the note Harry gabe her.

"Mary, please don't tell anyone just yet about this if you can." Harry spoke. "Maybe wait for a few days.

"Yeah, no I won't. I really won't." The girl was freaking out, she waved at him before leaving.

"She won't tell anyone Harry, don't worry." YN assured him getting back on her previous seat next to him.

"You think so?"

"I know so." She affirmed, "I've known her for quite a long time now. She's one of the nicest students I have."

"I'm gonna take your word on that." He smiled.

"Oh, and I got my new professor's ID today." YN reached for the ID kept on her desk face down. It had her name changed on her to Prof. YN Styles which had Harry smirking.

"Still won't be able to fathom we're actually married!" His cheek muscles ached from smiling so much in the moment seeing the ID card.

"Neither can I." She chuckled.

They'd known each other for only a year when he proposed and they got married a few months later. It wasn't rushed. But it was still surreal.

Harry was still anxious about Mary trying to post about their little interactions but she didn't. Harry never saw anything on the internet about them. He was relieved to say the least.

YN students liked her enough to not talk shit about her. Plus they needed their good grades to pass out of school.

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @harrysgirl-1d

Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

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chiffxna · 10 months

Text

A Love Too Dark (04)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 04: Insatiable Need For Satisfaction

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

PREV : Chapter 03

NEXT : Chapter 05

Chapter Summary:

Yn lived the day like normal until it was time to meet the Marquis de Gramont for the deal they made.

Yn awoke from her slumber with the sun's first light, though it was still far too early for her taste. She lay in bed paralyzed by fear as the full weight of what would happen that evening crashed down on her fragile shoulders. Today, she would fulfill her part of the deal with the Marquis de Gramont which was to spend a private dinner with him that evening. Yn sighed heavily as she stared up at her ceiling and wondered how exactly she got into this position.

She remembered how her life was before she took the bunny-girl job. She, her mother, and her young stepsister was from a small family who was poor in money yet rich in love. They were happy despite the struggles they faced. Yn and Sydney could see how hardworking her mother was in trying to make ends meet while ensuring that both of his daughters were happy. They loved her truly and wanted nothing more than to ease her burden.

Yn did not bother to ask her about her father since her mother showered her with love and praises endlessly. Yn was given so much motherly love that she didn't feel the lack of fatherly affection. She was fine with just her mother. In their dingy apartment, their life was like sunshine and a rainbow.

And then, the storm struck.

When her mother got diagnosed with a rare disease and needed expensive treatment, it was up to Yn who had to take on the burdens and work as a young adult to do whatever it took to save her. She tried getting loans but was turned down due to her lack of collateral. That was when she turned to the casino and took on the job as a bunny-girl.

But never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine that she would end up being in a situation like this. A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined what the Marquis had planned for her that evening. She knew she had to be strong and brave when that time comes, not just for herself and Amelia, but most importantly, for her mother.

Yn got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she wondered if the Marquis find her attractive. She had never considered herself a beauty, but the way he had kissed her made her think otherwise. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of such thoughts, and focused on preparing herself for the day.

"Mrraoww!"

Yn turned to see that Rosie, her precious and adorable cat, had entered the bathroom and was sitting and staring up at her with a pair of wide green eyes. Yn couldn't resist herself from bending down and petting its head lovingly. She then spoke, "I know. I know. You must be hungry."

She then busied herself with feeding Rosie and preparing breakfast for both her and Sydney. The latter woke up and suddenly wrapped her tiny arms around Yn's waist, startling the adult female.

"Yn, I had a bad dream," Sydney said in a small muffled voice since she had buried her face into Yn's skirt.

Yn immediately stopped what she was doing, wiped her hands on the apron around her front body, and knelt down to be at eye level with her stepsister. "Oh no. What happened, Syd?"

"I dreamt that mom was sick and we couldn't save her," Sydney said, her eyes filled with tears.

Yn felt a pang of guilt in her chest. She knew that Sydney was feeling the same way she was, scared and worried about their mother. Yn and her mother tried to hide the true severity of her illness and its treatment from Sydney, but the girl eventually felt lonely of her mother's love and became worried about why she was stuck in the hospital for months. It was then she concluded that mom needed saving.

Yn hugged Sydney tightly and said, "Don't worry, Syd. We'll save her. We'll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets better."

Sydney nodded her head, her tears drying up. Yn then stood up and said with a warm smile, "Now, how about we get some breakfast? I made your favorite pancakes."

Sydney's eyes lit up and she grinned, "Yay! Pancakes!"

Yn smiled and took Sydney's hand, leading her to the dining table. She served the pancakes while Sydney set the table. As they ate, Yn stared at her young stepsister quietly. It was at that moment she realized that she really needed the job at the casino. She must maintain her position there and earn enough for her mother's hospital treatment. But first of all, she had to fulfill her promise to the Marquis de Gramont. Hopefully, after tonight, Amelia's job at the casino would maintain and Yn wouldn't have any direct confrontation with the Frenchman.

As they finished breakfast, Yn got up and began to clear the dishes. Sydney offered to help, but Yn told her to go and get ready for school. Once everything was done, Yn walked her to preschool and dropped her off with a tight hug.

Yn then headed to the cafe where she would work her morning shift by boarding a bus. Edric was the first to greet her with a grin as she walked in.

"Good morning, Yn! You're early today," Edric said in his usual calm voice.

Yn smiled back and replied, "Yes, I want to make sure I have everything covered before the evening shift. Is there anything I need to know?"

Edric shook his head and said, "Nope, everything's the same. Just be your charming self and serve that coffee and pastries like a pro."

Yn nodded and was about to saunter to the back to change into her uniform when Edric suddenly called her, "Hey..."

Yn looked at him with a pair of wide doe eyes of curiosity, wondering what it was that Edric needed to talk to her about. The male then hesitantly asked, "Umm. Last night, did that guy disturb you again?"

The lady knew he was referring to the Marquis de Gramont. She had told him about a man who kept pursuing her but she never mentioned the Frenchman's name or identity to him and she would like to keep it that.

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal to Edric. She knew that the Marquis was a man of power and influence and she didn't want to get anyone else involved in her problems. So she decided to lie.

"He didn't... Last night was... fine," she lied as she felt goosebumps grow on her skin as she recalled the filthy, rough way the Marquis sucked her mouth last night.

Edric nodded with a stretched smile, an expression that Yn couldn't read. He replied, "That's good then. But stay alert, okay? He is not the only man with bad intentions."

Yn nodded, "I will. Thank you for asking."

With that, she headed to the back to change into her uniform. As she worked her shift, she couldn't help but think about the Marquis de Gramont and what he had in store for her that evening. She tried to push the thought away, focusing instead on her customers and serving them with her usual charm and grace. But the nagging feeling at the back of her mind refused to go away.

Finally, her morning shift was over and Yn headed home to preschool to pick Sydney up. As the former entered the preschool, she saw her adorable sister waiting by the entrance, holding her little backpack tightly. The moment that little girl spotted her, she ran towards her with a wide smile, her pigtails bouncing with each step. To Yn, the sight of her stepsister's innocent smile brought a momentary respite from the heavy thoughts that weighed on her mind.

"Yn!" Sydney exclaimed, wrapping her small arms around Yn's legs in a tight hug.

Yn beamed and patted her head affectionately, "Hey, how was your day?"

Sydney giggled and replied, "It was good! We painted pictures today, and I made one for mom!"

Yn's heart swelled with love and pride for Sydney's sweet gesture. "That's wonderful, Syd! I'm sure mom will love it. Let's go to the hospital and show her, okay?"

Sydney nodded eagerly, her pigtails bouncing with excitement. Yn held her hand as they made their way to the hospital by boarding a bus. Throughout the ride, Yn watched as the little girl hummed a kid's song while admiring the drawing she made with crayons. Yn smiled warmly at the innocent scene, grateful for this moment of serenity amidst the chaos of her life.

Arriving at the hospital, they went through the familiar routine of sanitizing their hands and checking in at the reception desk. Yn noticed the tiredness in her mother's eyes as they entered the room. It broke her heart to see her once vibrant and lively mother weakened by her illness.

"Mom!" Sydney exclaimed, rushing to her mother's bedside, unaware of the sickly condition on the older woman's face.

Yn followed closely behind, a mixture of emotions bubbling inside her. She greeted her mother with a warm smile, trying to hide her own worries. "Hey, mom. Look who's here with something special for you."

Their mother's face lit up with a gentle smile as she saw Sydney holding up her painted picture. "Oh, my sweet Sydney. What a lovely surprise! Thank you, darling."

Sydney proudly presented the artwork to her mother, who admired it with genuine affection. Yn stood by their side, her heart swelling with love and a tinge of sadness. As they spent the rest of the afternoon with their mother, Yn couldn't help but think of the grim reality that loomed over their family. Their mother had been battling her illness for months, and with each passing day, Yn could see her weakening. She knew that time was running out, and it broke her heart to think of a life without her mother.

She knew she must earn enough money fast before the illness could consume her forever. But how? She thought: Does she have to take on a third job every day?

After spending some quality time with their mother, Yn and Sydney said their goodbyes, promising to return soon. Yn held Sydney's hand tightly as they walked out of the hospital, a heavy silence enveloping them. Sydney looked up at Yn with innocent eyes, sensing her sister's unease.

"Sissy, are you okay?" Sydney asked, her voice filled with concern.

Yn crouched down to Sydney's level, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She forced a smile, wanting to shield Sydney from her worries as much as possible. "I'm fine, Syd. Just a little tired. Let's go home."

They boarded a bus and made their way back home. Yn decided to take a shower to wash off the dust and grime of the day. As she stood under the hot water, she felt her body relax. Her mind wandered, wondering what the evening would bring. She tried to push away the image of the Marquis, but it was etched into her mind. She couldn't shake off the feeling of dread and fright that he had evoked in her.

After the shower, Yn put on a wear she deemed fitting for a private dinner - a dress with white and blue floral patterns all over it. The bottom of the dress was just inches above her ankles, and the waist area was made tightened to show her midsection, with a split to show up her left thigh, with short puffed sleeves, and revealing a modest amount of her chest and collarbones. It was a pretty modest dress. It was actually a hand-me-down from her mom and that was the most expensive dress for someone as poor as her.

Before entering the living room to find Sydney, she contacted Barbara yet again. When her cousin agreed to take care of Sydney again, Yn felt an immense sense of gratitude and hoped she wasn't putting too much strain on her.

Yn then put on her skincare routine and light makeup to complement her dress, opting for a natural look that accentuated her features. She brushed some neutral eyeshadow on her lids, added a touch of mascara to enhance her lashes, and applied a soft pink shade to her lips. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel in awe of how she looked.

With her appearance ready, Yn made her way to the living room where Sydney was playing with her toys. Her stepsister looked up, her eyes widening in awe as she took in Yn's transformed appearance.

"Wow, you look so pretty!" Sydney exclaimed, her face lighting up with delight, "Like a princess about to talk with people on the streets!"

Yn smiled at the little girl's enthusiasm, her heart warmed by Sydney's innocent admiration. "Thank you, Syd."

"You are going to work like that?" asked Sydney who couldn't keep her eyes off of her sister.

Yn neared her and turned on the television to entertain the little girl. She then rubbed the top of her young sister's head and replied with a small smile, "Yeah. Tonight, I have dinner there."

Sydney tilted her head, her curiosity was evident. "Who are you going to have dinner with?"

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to explain the situation to a young child. She decided to keep it simple. "A friend, but don't worry, Aunt Barbara will take care of you while I'm gone."

Sydney nodded, accepting Yn's explanation. "Okay! Have fun!"

Yn hugged Sydney tightly, breathing in her sweet scent and cherishing the warmth of their embrace. "I will, Syd. I love you."

"I love you too, Yn," Sydney replied, her small voice filled with affection.

Reluctantly, Yn released the hug and stood up, her heart heavy with both guilt and trepidation about what would happen next. She then boarded a bus with a huge amount of shyness and insecurity, considering she was dressing up prettily, in the dress she rarely wore in public. Of course, she noticed the stares she got from people and that got her feel even more bashful.

Soon enough, she arrived at the casino, one hour earlier than the start of her usual shift. She entered through the back door which was reserved for staff's use only. She refused to go through the main entrance and the casino lobby and be stared at by the patrons. Once inside the staff's changing room, she began to wonder how she was going to meet the Marquis. He said he would pick her up. She wondered: Does that mean she has to wait outside the casino?

Yn took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She glanced at the clock in the changing room and realized she had some time before the scheduled meeting. She decided to freshen up, ensuring she looked presentable when the Marquis arrived.

She touched up her makeup, ensuring everything was in place. The nerves were still present, but she reminded herself to stay composed and focused. As she finished fixing her appearance, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, trying to muster up confidence.

With a final deep breath, Yn emerged from the changing room, only to have her path blocked by Amelia who seemed to be tip-toeing towards it. The new girl was startled when she saw Yn, her skin visibly jumping in surprise.

"Amelia," Yn greeted her with wide, curious eyes, "You are early."

"Hey, Yn," replied Amelia as she put on a nervous smile. She paused as she scanned Yn's whole figure up and down and commented, "And you look pretty. Is there a special occasion tonight?"

Yn felt her cheeks heat up, flustered by the compliment. "Uh, yeah. I have a meeting with someone tonight."

Amelia made a noise of curiosity, "Oh."

"Anyway, why are you here early?" asked Yn.

An expression of guilt and embarrassment appeared on Amelia's face as she cast her eyes down. She was staring at the ground, apparently unable to look back at Yn, as she answered, "Umm... I figured that I could come early and apologize to Mr. Malone... for being absent without telling him... before anyone comes here."

Yn suddenly realized why Amelia had come in so early. She wanted to speak to Mr. Malone without anyone else around, in case he became angry with her and embarrassed her in front of her colleagues.

Yn felt a pang of sympathy for the new girl. She knew how intimidating Mr. Malone could be, especially when he was angry. Without thinking, Yn reached out and placed a comforting hand on Amelia's shoulder.

"It's okay, Amelia. We all make mistakes. I'm sure Mr. Malone will understand," Yn said, trying to reassure the nervous girl.

Amelia looked up at Yn, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Yn."

Yn smiled warmly at Amelia. As the both of them stood in the corridor, engaged in their conversation, the casino's atmosphere suddenly shifted. A hush fell over the area, and Yn's heart skipped a beat. She could sense a presence, a powerful one, entering the casino. She turned her head in the direction of the disturbance and saw the Marquis de Gramont making his grand entrance.

Accompanied by his imposing bodyguards, the Marquis exuded an air of confidence and authority. His presence demanded attention, and all eyes were on him as he made his way through the bustling casino floor. His eyes were cold and intense, a shadow projected upon them, as he looked forward with one of his hands hidden inside his pocket.

He was donning a three-piece suit as usual but this time, it was eye-catching and bright. His suit was a shimmering pattern of rich red. His shirt was plain white, and his waistcoat, necktie, and pants were stark black. Yn couldn't help but admit in her head that he looked dashing in the bright attire.

Amelia and Yn instantly became quiet as they watched the Marquis headed straight for his office which was originally a VIP room for the casino. At some point, his eyes strayed and scanned his surrounding as though he was looking for something.

Yn felt a chill run down her spine as the Marquis' piercing gaze landed on her. Even from across the room, his gaze felt heavy and weighty, as if he was reading her very soul. Yn felt perturbation as she locked eyes with the Marquis. She quickly turned her head away from him, hoping to avoid more of his attention.

Yn's heart raced as the Marquis continued to scrutinize her. His lingering gaze made her feel exposed and vulnerable. She was relieved when he finally disappeared behind the closed door of his office. His bodyguards stood on each side of the door, facing the rest of the casino. The momentary respite allowed her to collect herself and turn her attention back to Amelia.

Amelia, visibly shaken by the encounter, looked at Yn with wide eyes. "Yn, I'm scared. I... What if he's going to fire me?"

Yn reached out, placing a comforting hand on Amelia's shoulder. She understood the fear that gripped her colleague. The Marquis's presence was intimidating, and his power within the casino was undeniable. But Yn couldn't let her own fears consume her, not when Amelia needed support.

"I understand how you feel, Amy," Yn said, her voice gentle yet firm. "The first thing you should do is to apologize to him. If you want, I can accompany you to see him."

Amelia looked at Yn, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty in her eyes. "You would do that? You would go with me?"

Yn nodded, a reassuring smile on her face. "Of course. We'll approach him respectfully. Oh, and tell them that you were sick these past few days. I told them that. Just to get the story straight."

With Yn's words of encouragement, Amelia's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. She felt a glimmer of hope, knowing that she wouldn't have to face the Marquis alone. She then replied, "Okay. Thanks for that, Yn."

Yn and Amelia decided to wait for a while before approaching the Marquis. They found a quiet corner of the casino, away from the prying eyes of the patrons. Yn reached out and took Amelia's hand, offering support and solidarity.

"Just remember, Amy, choose your words carefully," Yn said, her voice steady. "Give him respect, even if you dislike him or find his views distasteful."

Amelia nodded, a newfound determination in her eyes. She squeezed Yn's hand, appreciating the strength and compassion her colleague displayed.

With their minds set, Yn and Amelia walked toward the Marquis's office once again. This time, as they approached the closed door, they could feel a mix of nervousness and resolve coursing through their veins.

One of the bodyguards stationed by the door asked them in a very thick foreign accent, "What do you want?"

Yn maintained a respectful tone as she spoke, "We would like to speak with the Marquis if he's available."

The bodyguard, unyielding in his stance, scrutinized them for a moment before stepping closer to the door and knock it. They waited for a few seconds before the door was opened from the inside. It was the loyal and muscular bodyguard in a suit who was accompanying the Marquis wherever he went.

He then asked the bodyguard outside the door in another language. Yn realized it's not French, but Spanish. The two bodyguards exchanged a few words before the man who was stationed by the door turned to Yn and Amelia and said, "You may come in."

The Marquis' loyal bodyguard then opened the door wider and waited. Yn and Amelia said a small thanks to them before they advanced. They stepped into the office, the bodyguard closing the heavy door behind them and he then stood aside, becoming a silent observer of the scene. The room was opulent, adorned with lavish furniture and artwork that spoke of wealth and prestige. The Marquis stood behind a large mahogany desk, facing a full-body mirror on the wall, as he adjusted his waistcoat.

His cold gaze shifted to the two girls in the reflection of the mirror before he focused back on fixing his overall three-piece suit. He did not utter a word. It was either he chose to ignore them or he awaited them to speak.

Yn took a deep breath, gathering her courage before she spoke. "Sir, if I may, I have brought Amelia with me today because she would like to speak with you directly."

The Marquis's cold gaze flickered briefly towards Yn, acknowledging her presence. He turned his attention back to the mirror, adjusting his suit with meticulous precision. The room remained filled with an air of tension, the weight of the Marquis's authority palpable.

Amelia, sensing the need to break the silence, stepped forward and spoke with a voice tinged with nervousness. "Sir, I... I wanted to apologize for my disrespectful behavior that night. I am truly sorry for my action, and it will not happen again. I will learn from my mistake and I will improve myself."

The Marquis resumed adjusting his attire. His cold eyes, projected by shadow, looked as his fingers deftly fixed his necktie. His silence lingered, intensifying the tension in the room. Yn could feel her own heart pounding, unsure of what the Marquis's response would be.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Marquis turned away from the mirror and faced them with an air of authority, shoulders square and gaze stony and unreadable. His face was illuminated by shadows, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the strong line of his jaw. His hands were hidden away in the pockets of his suit. His eyes were blazed with a fierce intensity that left Amelia cowering in fear as if he had a personal vendetta against her.

With deliberate slowness, he spoke in a low and measured tone with his usual thick French accent, "Actions speak louder than words. Your apology is worthless… unless you prove it. It has come to my attention that you were absent for two days straight and failed to notify Malone. Do you have an explanation for this negligence?"

The Marquis's words were like a sword, cutting through the air and leaving a trail of unease in its wake. Amelia swallowed hard, her eyes darting nervously at the Marquis and the floor beneath her.

"I… I was sick, sir. I didn't mean to cause any problems," she stammered, hoping to appease the Marquis's wrath, "I'm so sorry for not informing Mr. Malone."

The Marquis's eyes narrowed slightly at her response as if he was skeptical of her excuse.

He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "You were sick for two days and couldn't be bothered to notify your superior? That is unprofessional."

Amelia and Yn's hearts skipped a beat, and fear coiled at the pit of their stomach. Amelia knew she was walking on thin ice then and there, and one wrong move could tip her over the edge. She could feel the weight of his disapproval bearing down on her and that her job was on the line.

The Marquis suddenly advanced forward, striding towards them with his hands remaining hidden in his pockets. He gave a fleeting glance at Yn, who was equally nervous as the coworker beside her, before he turned his gaze back to scowl at Amelia whom he deemed was clumsy and unprofessional.

The Marquis's glare deepened as he towered over the young female adults, his imposing presence suffocating the room. He spoke with a voice that brooked no dissent, "Second chances are always the excuses of those who fail. Your actions have consequences, and I have been contemplating if you are fit to remain in this casino."

Amelia's breath hitched, her eyes welling up with tears as she realized the severity of the situation. She pleaded desperately, her voice trembling, "Please, sir, I will do anything to make it right. I beg for another chance. I will bear any consequences, I swear."

The Marquis's gaze shifted from Amelia to Yn, a calculating glint in his eyes. Yn's heart sank as she braced herself for what the Marquis was about to say.

"Agreed. Consequences must be borne," the Marquis responded as he shifted closer to Yn. This time his eyes were fixated on Yn, watching her reaction, as he revealed, "However, it had been discussed yesterday. Yn will bear the consequences on your behalf."

Amelia's eyes widened in shock and her mouth agape in disbelief at what she heard. Yn, on the other hand, had her gaze averted away from Amelia and her face held a mixture of shame and embarrassment. Her body was stiff with a tense posture as the shock of the situation sunk in. It was evident that Yn did not want her to find out like this. If anything, she wished no one would know about her deal with the Marquis de Gramont and their upcoming private dinner.

The Marquis' lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. He turned his attention back to Amelia, his gaze piercing through her like a dagger. "Consider yourself fortunate, that Yn is willing to shoulder your burden. Remember this act of loyalty, for it may be your only saving grace."

The Marquis looked Yn up and down in a way that was both appraising and appreciative. His smirk revealed his satisfaction with what he saw, leaving no doubt as to his thoughts. His eyes were sparkling with a hint of pleasure, and his mouth curved upwards into a smug smirk.

He nodded his head quietly before he said, "Come, Yn. We shall tend to the deal we made."

Yn took a deep breath, steeling herself against the Marquis's gaze. She knew that what she was about to do was risky, but if she could satisfy him for the night, Amelia's career would be taken from the chopping block. She had done this to herself and made a deal with the devil, so she'd have to fulfill her end of the bargain.

She chanced a glance at Amelia who was still stunned at the revelation. She gave her a sad smile and said, "Don't forget to talk to Mr. Malone, okay?"

She turned around and followed the Marquis out of his office, aware of Amelia's eyes following her until the new girl was snapped out of a trance by another bodyguard who told her to leave the office.

The Marquis and Yn walked in silence down the winding halls of the casino, the only sound was the click of the Marquis' dress shoes on the polished marble floors. His loyal bodyguard followed them from behind. Finally, they exited the casino through the entrance and out into the city streets.

A sleek black limousine awaited them outside the casino, its engine humming softly. The Marquis opened the door and gestured for Yn to step inside, even placing a hand on her back purposely. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and uncertainty. As she entered the luxurious vehicle, she couldn't help but feel trapped.

The Marquis followed suit, sliding into the limousine with an air of confidence and authority. His smug expression remained firmly in place, his eyes glinting with a mix of satisfaction and intrigue. The door was closed behind him by his loyal bodyguard, sealing them off from the outside world.

The limousine's interior is luxurious and opulent, with plush leather seats, polished wood accents, and dim ambient lighting lending a sense of sophistication. The atmosphere inside the limousine was heavy with a mix of scents; the leather seats had a scent of newness, while the wood accents carried a subtle hint of fresh cedar. There was also the faint aroma of expensive cologne, adding to the air of mystery and power.

The Marquis settled into his seat, his knee bumping against Yn's, causing her to sneakily look over. He was spreading his legs wide enough that one of his knees brushed against hers. When she sensed his gaze landing on her, she averted her gaze and looked out the window. The male beside her stared at her quietly, like he was silently relishing the control he held over her.

The vehicle started moving, the quiet hum of the engine filling the small space, as the limousine glided through the darkening city streets. Yn felt the tension in the air build as she could feel the Marquis's gaze burning into her head.

The Marquis' voice broke the heavy silence, his voice thick with a French accent was dripping with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "You look ravishing, ma lapine."

He paused to scrutinize her. He eyed her figure up and down and harrumphed in pleasure and satisfaction as he spoke, "Hmm... The way that dress hugs your curves, it makes it difficult for me."

Yn's discomfort grew as the Marquis's words washed over her. She tried to maintain her composure, reminding herself of the deal she had struck, but the unease within her intensified. The compliments felt more like veiled manipulation than genuine praise.

"Thank you, sir," Yn responded politely, her voice laced with a hint of unease. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, inching slightly away from the Marquis to create some distance between them. The confined space of the limousine only seemed to amplify her unease.

The Marquis, seemingly undeterred by Yn's reluctance, continued to engage her in conversation. He spoke about the casino's operations, his travels, and various aspects of his glamorous life. Yn responded with polite nods and brief answers, trying her best to keep the conversation at arm's length.

"You seem tense, ma lapine," the Marquis observed, a hint of curiosity and smugness in his eyes. "Is it the anticipation of what lies ahead?"

Yn hesitated, her mind racing to come up with a suitable response. She couldn't reveal her true concerns, the weight of the consequences she had shouldered for Amelia's sake. Instead, she opted for a lie that would redirect the conversation away from her personal predicament.

"No, sir... It's just... I'm worried about what Mr. Malone will think about my sudden absence," Yn replied, her voice tinged with anxiety. "He's a strict man when it comes to punctuality."

The Marquis's lips curled into a knowing smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. His voice carried a hint of something dark as he reassured her, "Ah, don't worry. I have told Malone. He understands the importance of our personal... affair this evening."

As he finished speaking, the Marquis placed his hand on Yn's knee, his touch lingering longer than necessary. Yn's discomfort surged, and she instinctively shifted her knee away from his grasp, her gaze fixed on a distant point outside the window.

The Frenchman withdrew his hand, a faint smirk playing on his lips as if he found it amusing to see how uncomfortable Yn appeared because of him. The air inside the limousine grew heavier, the tension palpable, as Yn felt anxious about what she did.

Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She knew she had to play her part, but the Marquis' advances were testing her resolve. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. But her heart was pounding, and her palms were slick with sweat. Somehow, she had to survive the next few hours with this man, and she didn't know if she could do it.

As the limousine glided through the city streets, Yn's mind was in overdrive, trying to assure herself that she would finish her part of the deal with dignity still intact by the end of this evening. She couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped, and the Marquis's touch made her skin crawl.

Just then, the limousine came to a stop, and Yn's heart skipped a beat. She realized as she stared out the window that they were located somewhere remote and halted in front of a huge mansion that screamed filthy rich. The door by the Marquis' side was opened by the bodyguard, and he stepped out, offering his hand to Yn to help her out of the car.

Yn hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, feeling a shiver run down her spine as his fingers curled around hers. She stepped out of the limousine, her heels clicking against the pavement as she stood beside the Marquis. She looked up at the mansion, awe-struck by its grandeur and magnificence. It was a stark contrast to the city streets they had just left behind.

Another thing she easily perceived was the great number of bodyguards outside the building. They were all dressed in grey suits, and some of them were women. Their faces were masked with stoic expressions and gazes that can’t be read. They stared straight ahead while they stood in two straight and even lines, a path leading from the limousine to the grand entrance of the mansion.

"Welcome to my humble abode, ma lapine," the Marquis suddenly spoke up, giving out his arm to signify her to grab it. He added, "We have time to spare so I will show you around."

Yn was speechless as she subconsciously grabbed his arm. The Marquis led the way to the front door and passed his numerous bodyguards. Once they stepped inside thanks to two more bodyguards opening the door for them, Yn felt as if she had been transported to another world.

The interior of the mansion was breathtaking, with ornate decorations and furnishings that exuded elegance and sophistication. The Marquis gave her a grand tour, showcasing his collection of art, antiques, and exotic possessions from his travels around the world.

Yn's face lit up, giving her a dreamy and radiant expression, as she took in the grandeur of the mansion. Her eyes sparkled with admiration and awe, and her mouth opened slightly in amazement. The Marquis watched her with a proud and pleased expression, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes darted from Yn to the various objects around the mansion, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction to each one.

As they walked through the hallways, Yn couldn't help but feel intimidated by the opulence of it all. She felt like an outsider, out of place in this world of extravagance and luxury. The Marquis seemed to revel in her discomfort, his voice dripping with smugness and confidence as he pointed out various artifacts and paintings, as if showing off his wealth and power.

But the tour eventually came to an end as they reached a set of doors that led to a private wing of the mansion. The Marquis turned to Yn with a glint in his eye that made her heart skip a beat.

"Shall we retire to my bedroom, ma lapine?" he asked, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

Yn's breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively stepped back, her eyes wide with fear and panic. She was about to protest when the Marquis chuckled in amusement. He told her, "I was kidding. But, come. It's time to see your part of the deal. We would have that private dinner in my bedroom, on the balcony."

Yn let out a sigh of relief. She followed him to the private wing of the mansion, her mind racing with thoughts. She wondered what kind of dinner the Marquis had planned for them since everything inside this mansion was majestic and rich. She looked to the side to see it was his loyal bodyguard still tailing them from behind.

As they entered the bedroom, Yn was struck by its opulence. The room was spacious, with a king-sized bed in the middle and a balcony overlooking the city. The walls were adorned with gold-framed paintings, and the furniture was made of the finest wood.

The Marquis gestured towards the balcony, where a candlelit table was set up with silverware and crystal glasses. Yn could smell the delicious aroma of food wafting through the air.

The Marquis pulled out a chair for Yn and seated her before taking his own seat across from her. The bodyguard stood behind the Marquis, watching their every move with a scrutinizing gaze. Yn felt the cool breeze on her face as she took in the breathtaking view of the city skyline. The Marquis poured her a glass of wine, and they began to eat the sumptuous meal that had been laid out in front of them.

The food was exquisite, and Yn couldn't help but feel in awe of this experience. She had never tasted anything like these before, and she savored every bite. The Marquis watched her with a satisfied expression, his eyes drinking in her beauty as she ate.

Yn was acutely aware of the Marquis's gaze on her, and it made her uneasy even amidst the lavishness of the setting. She maintained a composed facade, gracefully savoring each morsel, though her mind was racing with conflicting emotions and thoughts.

"So, enlighten me, Yn," the Marquis began as he put down his utensils and leaned against the backrest of his chair. One of his legs was resting atop the other and both of his arms were placed on the armrests. He asked, "Do your parents work?"

Yn's heart sank for a moment, realizing that the Marquis was delving into personal territory. It was a topic she preferred to keep tightly guarded, as it held painful memories and private struggles. She had learned to navigate life without the support of her father, and her mother's illness was a burden she carried with a heavy heart.

Besides that, she knew she had to be careful with her responses, as revealing too much could give him leverage over her. She chose her words carefully, attempting to deflect the conversation away from her family.

"My mother doesn't work," she replied, deciding not to divulge the whole truth about her family situation. "She's staying at home, and I help take care of her."

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by her response. "That must be quite challenging for you, balancing your responsibilities here and at home."

"It has its difficulties, but I manage," she replied quietly. She hoped that by ending the topic fast, she could avoid any further probing questions.

But the Marquis was an astute and perceptive man, and he seemed to sense her evasion. He leaned in slightly, his eyes locked onto hers as one eyebrow of his rose, and he asked, "What about your father, hmm?"

Yn's heart raced, and she could feel her palms becoming clammy. She had not expected him to inquire about her father, and her mind raced to find a suitable response that wouldn't give away too much. The truth about her father's infidelity and their broken family was too personal and painful to share with a stranger like the Marquis.

"My father..." Yn hesitated, searching for the right words. "He's not in the picture. My mother and I manage just fine."

The Marquis studied her carefully, his dark eyes seemingly piercing through her facade. She could feel his gaze weighing on her, and she instinctively looked down, pretending to be absorbed in her food.

"I see," the Marquis said, his voice dropping slightly lower. "You've had to shoulder such responsibilities at a young age."

Yn nodded, not trusting herself to speak further. She tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, hoping to divert his attention from prying into her personal life.

"What about you, sir?" she asked, trying to sound genuinely curious. "You must have a family of your own?"

The Marquis chuckled as if amused by the question. He replied, "Ah, my life is rather... complicated. Let's just say that I have my responsibilities as well. Still, I find ways to entertain myself through them."

He flashed a knowing smile, making it clear that he had no intention of divulging his personal life either. Yn felt a shiver run down her spine as she pondered the hidden meaning behind his words. The Marquis was a mysterious man, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease around him. She remembered Sophia, one of her coworkers at the casino, saying that she had heard of the Marquis being involved in the underworld. She thought: Could it be that he was referring to those kinds of responsibilities?

She tried to shake off her discomfort and focus on the present moment, savoring the exquisite food and enjoying the opulent surroundings.

As they continued their dinner, the conversation remained more on the surface, discussing general topics like art, culture, and the city's social scene. Yn was relieved that the Marquis seemed to have let go of prying into her personal life, but she remained cautious, knowing that he was a master manipulator.

Yn realized that navigating this evening would be a delicate dance, a constant balancing act between protecting her secrets and playing along with the Marquis's advances. She knew she had to tread carefully, as one wrong step could have dire consequences for herself and those she cared about.

After dessert, just as a few bodyguards came in and cleaned up the dishes, the Marquis suddenly called for the bodyguard who was always accompanying him, "Chidi."

Yn shot a glance at the bodyguard whom she then knew his name. Chidi advanced forward till he stood next to the Marquis. That's when she saw it. A medium-sized velvet box was given to the Marquis. Chidi then backed away and, for some reason, exited the bedroom wordlessly.

The Marquis uncrossed his legs, leaned closer to the table, and placed it there, pushing it closer to Yn. She was puzzled and made no move or utter a word as she stared at him quizzically. The Frenchman's corners of his lips turned upward as he told her, "For you. You may open it."

Yn's curiosity was piqued as the Marquis urged her to open the velvet box. With a mixture of intrigue and caution, she delicately lifted the lid, revealing its contents. Inside the box lay an exquisite piece of jewelry nestled inside—a minimalist rose gold pearl necklace. Yn was thoroughly captivated by it as her eyes widened in awe.

"It's beautiful," Yn whispered, her voice clearly filled with admiration. She was dazzled by the craftsmanship and elegance of the necklace, unable to deny its undeniable allure.

The Marquis leaned back in his chair, observing her reaction with a smirk. He commented smoothly, "It's a rare piece, just like you."

She could not find it in herself to touch the piece of jewelry so she closed the lid and carefully placed it on the table. Yn’s expression was one of shock as her wide eyes gazed at the handsome Marquis as if she was looking for answers in his face. Her lips were slightly parted and there was a glimmer of wonder in her gaze, as she struggled to comprehend the thoughtful gift that he just bestowed upon her.

Yn's mind was in a whirlwind of emotions. The gift was exquisite, and a part of her was drawn to its beauty, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. It was too extravagant, too much for her to accept from a man she hardly knew. The weight of his intentions and the underlying implications of his gesture pressed upon her.

"Sir, I... I appreciate your gesture," Yn began, her voice filled with uncertainty. "But this necklace, it's too much for me. I can't accept such a gift."

The Marquis leaned forward, his eyes locked onto hers with unwavering intensity. His voice was silky and persuasive as he said, "Beauty deserves to be adorned and cherished. This necklace is a reflection of the allure and elegance I see in you. I insist you accept it."

Yn's heart fluttered at his words, his charm and flattery momentarily clouding her judgment. She was drawn to his words, the way he made her feel seen and valued. But she couldn't ignore the nagging voice of caution in her mind, reminding her of the potential consequences of accepting such a gift from a man of his stature and reputation. She felt like if she accepted it, she would delve into a dark abyss where she would be more involved with the mysterious Marquis.

Suddenly, the Marquis stood up from his seat without giving her enough time to properly mull over her decision. She remained in her seat, looking up at the Frenchman with doe eyes of innocence and curiosity as he strode to her side. He then reached out his hand and spoke, "Let me put it on you."

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. But the Marquis' persuasive and confident demeanor, along with the allure of the necklace, won her over. She extended her hand and placed it on the open palm the Marquis offered to her, allowing him to guide her to her feet. As she stood before him, she felt a surge of vulnerability coursing through her veins.

He then pulled her gently a few steps away from the table. Once she stood at a spot, he turned her around till she was facing the grand view from the balcony overlooking the city. After grabbing the velvet box on the candlelit table, the Marquis approached her, his fingers delicately grasping the necklace.

He stood behind her, his presence enveloping her in warmth. Yn's heart raced as his fingers lifted her hair, exposing the nape of her neck. Breeze blew softly against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

The Marquis then fastened the clasp of the necklace, his fingers brushing against her skin in the process and the coolness of the pearls meeting the warmth of Yn's skin. She couldn't help but catch her breath, feeling the weight of the necklace settle around her neck like a shackle.

Yn touched the pearls with her fingertips, feeling the weight of the necklace against her skin. It was undoubtedly a stunning piece, and she couldn't deny the small surge of pleasure it brought her. But alongside that pleasure was a sense of unease, a lingering feeling that accepting this gift would intertwine her fate with the enigmatic Marquis in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.

"Thank you," Yn murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's beautiful. But I don't know if I could accept this."

All of a sudden, she felt large hands grasping her shoulders from behind. She knew without a doubt that it was the Marquis who was still standing behind her. Trepidation coursed through her body, freezing the warm feelings she got from the necklace. She then heard his voice from behind, "Take it. It's a gift, and I want you to always wear it."

Yn could feel his breath on the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The silence was all she could provide him as a reply as she started to tremble in his grip. That was when she felt something press against her bare shoulder, then a smacking noise followed. She did not have to glance over to know that the Marquis was placing kisses there.

Yn's heart raced with fear as the Marquis continued to place kisses on her bare skin. His hands trailed down her arms in a possessive manner, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She could feel the weight of the necklace around her neck, acting as a physical reminder of the Marquis' hold on her.

His kisses gradually trailed from her shoulder to her neck. He began planting kisses around the area in a slow, methodical manner, his fingers gently caressing her arms in the process. Yn could feel her heart racing, unable to find her voice to speak up. She could only bite her lip and continue to listen to the smacking noises as he began to nibble on her neck.

"Stop..." Yn managed to mutter, her breath hitching in her throat.

But the Marquis was relentless in his assault, his lips continuing to trail down her neck. Suddenly, his hands drifted to her arms and gently grasped them. Instinctively, Yn attempted to pull her arms away and move away from him, but she was met with his unyielding grip around her arms.

"Don't resist," she heard the Marquis murmuring as his lips neared her nape.

Her heart raced, fear coursing through her veins. She could feel his warm breath and his lips against her neck, and she could hear his words in her ear. The adrenaline rush coursed through her body as she tried to push the Marquis away from her.

But it was all in vain. The Marquis was too strong and bigger than she was, and her resistance only aroused him more. Yn could feel his lips moving to the side of her neck, where she felt teeth clamp on her skin. She struggled to free herself from the man's hold, a faint scream escaping her lips.

"Stop!" she raised her voice, still trapped by him, "This is not part of our deal! It's supposed to be just a dinner!"

Suddenly, the Marquis let go of her and he withdrew his head. Yn immediately moved away from him and spun around to face him. Her face contorted with rage, her eyes wide and her lips forming a tight line. Her cheeks flushed red and her fists were clenched as she stared at the Marquis with a look of utter disdain.

The Marquis' face had a look of satisfaction, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes glazed with lust. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he adjusted his suit and brushed off his jacket. He seemed arrogant and in control with every movement he made. He then met Yn's gaze.

"Ah, our deal," he nodded as his lips curved upside down in amusement for a fleeting moment, "You're right."

Yn stared at him while breathing heavily before she moved to rush past him. She exited the balcony and strode speedily towards the door of the bedroom. She opened the door aggressively, wanting to just leave this building as soon as possible when she halted abruptly in her track.

Chidi was standing in the middle of the doorway, blocking the exit. He stood with his hands grasping one another in front of his body. His eyes were narrowed and his face was solemn as he looked down at Yn, looking completely unsurprised to see her about to rush off. It's as if he had expected her.

The sound of calm footsteps approaching them from behind her made Yn turn around with eyes widening in fear. The Marquis sauntered toward them, his hands still tucked into his pockets, his dark gaze still boring into her. Yn held her breath as she felt completely trapped on the spot despite how huge the mansion was.

"You are forgetting one thing, ma lapine," the Marquis spoke up as he removed his rich red jacket, fully revealing him in the black waistcoat. He then tossed the piece of clothing to the side uncaringly. Then he added to Yn, "The deal is a private dinner with me until I am satisfied. And now..."

He paused to loosen up his necktie from around his neck, and he continued in a dark tone, "I have yet to be satisfied."

Feeling the Marquis' hungry gaze on her, Yn trembled timidly as she looked at the ground. She then scowled at him and said with slight indignation in her tone, "You twist the deal."

"Not at all," answered the Frenchman as he advanced closer to her, "I said exactly that and you agreed. That's our deal, and you haven't fulfilled that part yet. Your friend could still very well be fired now."

Yn frowned in terror and she stared wide-eyed at him. Her heart raced and she felt a chill run down her spine as her blood turned cold. She was so stunned that she couldn't even see the Marquis coming to her and wrapping his arms around her.

He pulled her close to his chest and Yn's heart jumped into her throat at the sudden closeness. The Marquis looked down at her face and the gleam in his eyes seemed to darken. He then leaned in closer to her face and pressed his lips on hers.

His lips were warm and supple. Yn could feel his warm breath on her face and she could smell his scent - a masculine one that smelt of spice and something else that Yn couldn't name. She could feel him, too - his front body against hers, his lips on her own, and his arms encircling her waist.

The feel of his body touching hers overwhelmed her so much that she finally struggled in his embrace. She yelled against his lips, "No! Don't touch me!"

The Marquis responded immediately by clutching her jaw with his hand and pulling her face closer to his. Yn gasped in shock and he took that chance to deepen the kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue, as his other hand traveled her body, caressing her buttocks before it raised up the bottom of her dress.

That's when she heard the door shutting behind her. She thrashed around in his grip and managed to look over her shoulder to see that Chidi had closed the door and left the two of them. Her heart thudded in her ribcage at the sight and she couldn't help but panic.

"Let me go!" she yelled, struggling vehemently and pushing the man away by his chest.

However, she was stunned to silence when the Marquis grabbed her by the jaw forcefully and tugged her close to his face. His rage-filled eyes glared down at her, the shadow projecting over them making them appear even more ominous, as his mouth was in a straight slash with immense contempt.

"You're forgetting the deal," he hissed through his gritted teeth, "But if you want, I could let you go. But I will call Malone and tell him that your precious friend is fired! And since you disobey me, I will cut your earning!"

Yn froze in an instant, her eyes widening like saucers as she stared back at him in absolute disbelief and horror. No. She could not have the money she earned from the casino cut at this moment. Not when she was so close to paying the full amount of her mother's medical bills. Not when her mother's life's on the line. Not when her mother seemed so sick recently.

But she couldn't believe how far the Marquis would go to achieve what he desired. She could see his eyes burning with desire and his grip on her jaw tightened as if to physically make her submit to his whims. One of her hands instinctively grabbed the forearm of the hand that held her jaw. She stared at him wide-eyed with a frown of stupefaction as she pondered.

The Marquis glared down at her before his eyes relaxed due to realization and confusion. He noticed right away how she froze in his grip and how scared she was when he said he would cut her earning. Her reaction intrigued him and he wondered if she took the casino job only for the huge pay she would earn. But for what, he did not know. However, he then knew for sure that his threat about money had a good hold on her.

She was so scared that her hands started to tremble and her vision blurred over. She felt her heart pounding in her chest and her breath became shallow and quick. She felt something wet running down her cheek, but she brushed it off as sweat. That was until the Marquis brought his other hand to her face and gently wiped it with his thumb.

"If you don't want it to be cut," he said, a dark smile on his face, "Then do as I say and it won't be."

Yn shed more tears as she loosened up in his hold. The Marquis noticed this and slowly let her jaw go before he pulled her into his chest, embracing her in a mock show of affection. His arms went around her waist and he pressed the length of her body against his.

"Do not fret," the Marquis said, his mouth beside her ear, "There's no need for tears. I'll be gentle."

She made no move to hug him back as a few more tears rolled down her cheeks as the horrifying predicament of the situation dawned on her. She couldn't let the Marquis do a pay cut to her earning from the casino. She needed the money badly. She had to endure one or two more months to collect the full amount of money to pay her mother's medical bills. Cutting her earning would make the process slower and her mother's life was at stake then.

Plus, the last time she saw her mother, the latter seemed so frail. It's as if death had gotten so close to her this time. If the Marquis cut off her earning and slowed the whole process down, would her mother still be alive?

She couldn't let that happen. She was so close. She couldn't jeopardize it.

Yn then looked up to stare at the smug Frenchman. Her glassy doe eyes gazed at him and she thought: If she gives him what he wants, he would leave her alone, right? He would not chase her around again.

The Marquis was pleased to her staring at him with those eyes. He then gently brushed off her tears with his thumbs and said in a low voice, "Don't fight me on this. It's for tonight only, okay?"

Yn wiped away her tears with her hand and she gave a small nod in response. She was so teary-eyed that she couldn't meet the Marquis' eyes.

The Marquis smirked in victory before he brought her chin up with his hand, leaned in, and kissed her again. This time, Yn didn't struggle like before and she let him kiss her. She shut her eyes and let out a whimper at his soft touch. She felt him pressing her against him as his kisses grew aggressive and impatient.

She felt his hands roam her body as if on their own will. But before long, she felt that gentle touch and the small tingles of his fingers trailing down her arms. She felt a shiver go down her spine when his hands reached down her back and then picked up the bottom of her dress. She was surprised when she felt his hands grope her ass, squeezing and feeling her there, leaving her skin electrified. He did so over and over again until she felt his fingers delve down past her buttocks and rub against her pussy through the panties.

He kissed her so sloppily because he was more focused on his fingers rubbing against her pussy. His tongue had invaded her mouth and dominated hers easily as she gasped at the foreign sensation he did down there.

That's when she felt her panties being moved to the side. For the first time in her life, Yn felt a foreign object rub against the lips of her pussy. She flinched and twitched at the sensation but the Marquis did not relent and he kept rubbing his fingers against her slit, all the while locking his lips with hers incessantly. She was left to lean her whole body fully against his chest as she let out a breathy moan, her tears brimming her eyes as she trembled in his arms.

The Marquis was relentlessly rubbing against her clit and it sent pleasure surging through her body. She was forced to moan into his mouth as she put both of her hands on his chest for something to grip on. She felt a lot of things were happening. Her mouth was thoroughly sucked and dominated by his while her clit was caressed violently by his fingers. She had never felt so suffocated by many sensations, and one thing she could focus on was the nagging pleasure.

She felt her pussy getting wetter by the second. She felt a strange new feeling, one she couldn't describe. A sound that was not human, but rather the primal call of a female, then escaped her lips.

The Marquis picked up the sound and he then continued to lick and suck her lips even more, forcing out more moans from the lady. He felt her whole body shudder in his arms with every move he made, and it was a sight to behold. He lapped at Yn's lips and drank her sweet saliva as he continued toying with her pussy, finding out what gave her the most pleasure.

She knew it was wrong. What he was doing was wrong. She knew she should hate it. But it just felt so amazingly good. The pleasure was getting stronger and stronger and she felt herself getting close to an orgasm. She became tensed in his hold as that sensation got higher and higher. His fingers became swifter too, stubbornly rubbing her pussy and clit with more pressure, and that's when she felt the explosion of a climax.

She moaned lightly as she harshly gripped the Marquis' black waistcoat. Her whole body trembled like leaves due to the orgasm, her mouth was left wide open, giving him easy access to kiss her more fervently. She had subconsciously bent forward, pushing her breasts against his chest as her thighs closed in, leaving his fingers lock against her gushing pussy.

As the climax began to die down, she felt her knees weakening and she was on the verge of collapsing but the Marquis caught her and steadied her. Not only that, he put his hands around her and carried her in bridal style. She was breathing heavily in his arms, her eyes closed, and he stared down at her, enjoying the sight of her flushed face.

She was still coming down from the high of the explosive orgasm when she felt herself being lowered down onto something soft and comfortable. She figured out it was a bed as her hands instinctively grabbed onto the blanket to grip something as she still felt the slowing surge of intense pleasure.

She heard the sound of fabric rustling before something dropped onto the floor. She then felt the straps of her dress on her shoulders being loosened. The dress was pulled down her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps following the trail of the dress. The Marquis pushed the dress down completely and Yn felt it slither off of her body until she lay in only her white lace bra and her plain white panties. She could feel the cold air of the room brush against her exposed skin

She felt the bed shift again as the Marquis got on the bed. Her eyes shot open and she looked towards the source of the movement. She swallowed dryly at the shocking sight. He had gotten rid of his shirt and waistcoat, revealing his upper body fully bare.

He had a strong, muscular physique with distinct chest muscles and a broad, strong back. His abdomen was toned and his arms had visible veins and muscles that rippled as he moves. His skin was smooth, with no blemishes or marks. He had a flat stomach and light six-pack abs that were barely visible against his skin. He had a look of pure lust in his eyes. He stared at Yn's body as if he was going to devour her and it really made her feel naked.

Suddenly, she felt sturdy hands grip her ankles and pull her legs apart. She gripped the blanket tighter as she felt a sudden cool breeze brush against her exposed pussy. She realized that he had just taken off her panties, but she was exhausted and powerless to stop him. She was spread and vulnerable.

The Marquis then went for her bra. He moved his hands underneath her body and unclasped the hook. He then tossed the piece behind him. Her body became exposed to the light of the room. She felt a chill run down her spine as her breasts became exposed to the open air of the room. She felt so shy being naked in front of a man. One she didn't actually know.

He put his hand on each side of her head as he positioned himself in between her legs. She then felt something poking against the entrance of her pussy. Her eyes widened with fear and dread as realization set in. She knew what was going to happen. It was apparently what the Marquis wanted. He had to threaten her to get to this point, and now it was going to be real. She gripped the blanket tighter as she felt the invasion near.

That was when an idea lit up in her head.

“Wait!”

The Marquis was startled by the sudden voice of the girl who had been quiet the whole time. He paused his movements and looked down at her.

Yn knew she could not stop him from this. He would threaten her more and make it clear that he would make her life a miserable one. But she had an idea - one that would at least comfort her inwardly as she spread her legs for him.

She began with a soft and whimpery voice, “Please… After this is done, I want compensation… Because this is too much for me… I don’t do this… I want… All I want is just something to compensate for this…”

Understanding registered in the Marquis’ head. He stared her down as his eyes glimmered with filthy lust that plainly told he was desiring her body. He let out a huge exhale as he queried, "What kind of compensation?"

Yn swallowed dryly before she revealed, "50 thousand dollars. Please. That's all. You can have my body and all I want is just that. If you want, you can... reduce it to 25k... or even 10k."

The Marquis scoffed and he looked like he was about to force himself on her, but Yn was adamant this time. She brought her hands to his cheeks and begged, "Please! This matters so much to me!"

He appeared taken aback by her persistence and the way she held his cheeks in her hands. He regarded her with a long stare and Yn could tell how puzzled he was. She could only hope that he did not question her about it.

However, she was astonished when he let out another sigh before he pursed his lips and said, "Fine. 50 thousand."

Yn was surprised. He thought he would choose to pay her the cheapest amount, but he still went with the highest. It was a lot of money, especially for her who was very much poor. She smiled in relief, but then her smile dropped instantaneously as she felt it.

The Marquis' cock rubbed against the entrance of her wet pussy. She was still extremely tight and he could feel her resisting the slight tightness. He slid his cock upwards, sliding it against her sensitive clit. Yn felt like she was going to die from the pleasure that shot up her body. She whimpered as she felt her clit being rubbed by his cock, and she felt like she was going to explode.

She heard the Marquis say as he leaned closer to her ear, "I'm going to fuck you senseless."

She shivered at those words as she felt him push his cock back downwards, rubbing it against her entrance before pushing it in.

She felt her insides being forced to stretch and fit over his girth, which wasn't a small one. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent scream as he slowly slid his cock into her. She felt her pussy being stretched to the limit, and she felt like she was going to tear soon. The pain was unbearable as he pushed his cock further into her.

She felt like he was tearing her apart and because of the pain, her hands shot up to push against his bare chest. She cried out, "Stop! It hurts!"

The Marquis just looked at her and smirked, "You are full of surprises, ma lapine. You are a virgin."

Yn tried to glare at him but moaned in pain as she did so. Tears began to brim in her eyes as she felt him thrust his cock in deeper. She felt like her insides were going to be torn apart. She let out a cry of pain as she felt her pussy being stretched further to fit his length. She felt like she was about to split open. She felt the Marquis' hands dig into her hips as he pushed more and more of his member inside her until it reached the hilt.

He moaned in pleasure as her tight pussy was wrapped around his penis. He looked down at her expression and saw that one tear had rolled down her cheek. She looked tired and helpless beneath him as her pussy hugged his cock perfectly. He leaned down and licked the teardrop shamelessly.

The pain continued to pierce through Yn's body. She was whimpering, her eyes closing and her teeth sinking into her lower lip. Her hands had stopped pushing against his chest and she laid them down next to her shoulders. She looked up and realized that their missionary position forced her to stare directly at him. She quickly averted her gaze and looked to the side, not wanting to look at him as he got what he wanted.

She felt his cock twitch and jerk as he leaned closer to her. She looked back up to see him staring down at her with a hungry expression. He began to fuck her like that, deep and slow, taking his time in enjoying the tightness of her pussy. He was thrusting in and out of her extremely slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight cunt around his girth. It was a slow rhythm and he seemed to love the feeling of her tight cunt around his cock.

He groaned in pleasure as her face contorted in pain. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream, and her head was moving back and forth upon each thrust. Her hands lay limply upon the bed as she lay there, taking his thrusts. She felt him pulling her against him with each thrust as he began to pick up his speed bit by bit.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to whimper in pain. She felt like she was being split in two, and the pain was excruciating.

The Marquis just continued to fuck her, thrusting into her as he leaned down and began to lick and suck on her breasts. His tongue licked over her nipples, gently stimulating them as they hardened. He sucked on them and played with them as he continued to thrust into her in a rhythm that gradually sped up.

Yn let out a loud moan as she felt him continue to trace licking over her nipples. They were hardening under his touch and she was beginning to feel pleasure from his tongue. It felt like the Marquis was doing this to purposefully drive her insane. He continued to toy with her nipples with his mouth.

Her pussy tightened even more as that pleasure from her breasts flowed through her body. She moaned lightly as she experienced a mixture of pain and pleasure. She felt overwhelmed by a lot of mixed sensations. It was like pain and pleasure combining into this toxic liquid that surged throughout her body and she couldn't think clearly. She felt like she wanted to take it or run.

The Marquis was groaning in pleasure as he felt the incredible tightness of her pussy. He was driving himself crazy with the pleasure that her pussy provided.

He was patient. Patient enough. He had taken his time to make her his, and now that she was here beneath him, he was going to enjoy it. He was going to fuck her senseless until all she could do was moan. He continued to thrust deep into her pussy, his hips pumping against her soft ass. He thrust forward and pulled out, stretching her pussy with his girth and length. He pushed himself in and out of her, rotating his hips and thrusting strongly into her.

Eventually, his pace became harder and faster. Yn gasped and moaned as he began to thrust in rougher. He raised his upper body, his hands grasped tightly onto her hips and he controlled her hips to his liking. He was pounding into her with force and vigor, and both of their bodies were colliding together. Her pussy felt like it was on fire with the rough fucking he was giving her.

Yn was moaning and staring up at him in shock. She felt it. The tip of his cock rammed against the entrance of her womb repeatedly. It sort of hurt yet pleasurable at the same time. He was filling her up, his cock throbbing within her as he fucked her fast. She could feel his heartbeat inside her and it was racing just as fast as she.

Yn watched as his body glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing and his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was fucking her with so much force, so much strength. His large hands held her hips tightly as he slammed into her with ferocity. She felt him pounding his cock into her, his hips colliding with her ass, and her legs around his waist swinging wildly in the air following his movements. He was taking her hard like she was his fucktoy.

She felt his cock hitting the entrance of her womb as he continued to pound into her. She moaned in pleasure despite the mixture of pain and pleasure. She was sweating under him, her pussy walls tightening around his cock as he continued to plow her.

The Marquis was a powerful figure, his body slick with sweat, muscle tensing and bulging as he thrust and pounded into her. His hands grasped fiercely onto her hips, controlling her movements as he dominated her. His hips moved in a rapid rhythm, ramming into her rear with pummeling energy that sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body.

There was a mix of pheromones in the air, a musky scent of aroused bodies entwined that filled the room. Yn could smell his sweat, mixed with her own as they moved together and heated up the atmosphere around them.

His grunting and moaning matched hers as they collided together, their genitals slapping together like thunder amidst a violent storm. His breaths were labored as he pushed himself harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin overlapping with his grunts and hers.

Yn bounced up and down the bed as her breasts and the necklace swung wildly with her motion. She moaned, at this point, the pain had subsided as if her pussy had gotten used to the stretch and the violent thrusts of the cock inside her. Her hand was gripping the sheet hard on each side of her head. The way she looked beneath him was exquisite to the Marquis as she let him violate her like a toy.

That's when she realized that he was watching her. He leaned down, placing each forearm of his on each side of her head, and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Yn moaned as his tongue dominated her from the inside. She swore she felt her eyes roll up in pleasure and suffocation upon feeling the Marquis ravish her in two ways - through her wet pussy and her mouth.

He was pounding her pussy roughly in a mating press. Her legs were pressed against her chest by him as he towered over her directly, slamming his cock inside her relentlessly. She moaned with his tongue inside her mouth as she felt his cock pounding against her G-spot, sending pleasurable shocks across her body again and again. She could almost feel his cock throbbing with a rapid beat within her.

The Marquis felt her pussy tighten around his cock, knowing she was nearing her climax. For Yn, it was all too much for her as she felt her body heating up even more. She couldn't take it anymore and she felt a burst of pleasure build up within her body, her gushing pussy walls gripping his cock tightly.

She suddenly tensed up in the mating press, her moans were muffled by his mouth and tongue, as she climaxed beneath him. Her pussy clenched tightly around his cock over and over again.

However, the Marquis did not stop there, despite knowing she was orgasming within his hold, as he continued to ram his cock into her with brutal force. Yn was dumbfounded that he wasn't stopping and she felt so overstimulated and oversensitive since she was still climaxing.

She cried out as she struggled beneath him, attempting to dislodge his cock and flee from the mating press she was pushed in, "Stop! Pull out! I'm still...!"

But the Marquis did not stop. He ignored her cries as he continued to fuck her with force as she thrashed and cried beneath him. He felt the grip of her pussy tighten around his cock, feeling her vagina squirt juices all over his shaft and balls as her cunt continued to spasm and convulse around his cock. He smirked and continued to fuck her, knowing full well about the explosions her female body could muster.

His cock continued to pound against her G-spot, overloading her senses and overwhelming her mind. It almost felt like she was on the verge of passing out from all the pleasure and pain in her body. She kept struggling in vain to get him off her, but he was too strong, her body was weak and feeble compared to his.

That's when she experienced her second orgasm, a powerful and strong wave of bliss and pleasure coursed through her body, exploding from her pussy and spreading throughout her entire body. She screamed and her eyes were rolling up as she experienced a powerful one. Her body was trembling and twitching under the Marquis' hold. Her pussy spasmed tightly around his cock with such intensity and power that she swore she saw stars.

But the Marquis wasn't done yet. He fucked her with her pussy juices lubricating his cock, thrusting deeper and harder into her with each thrust. His cock was overstimulated by her second orgasm and she felt the man's cock twitch and pulse clearly inside her pussy walls.

Despite the hazy cloud of the climax, the realization fell upon her like bricks as she understood what was going to happen soon. She immediately yelled, pushing against his chest yet again, "Pull out! Don't cum inside!"

But all her attempts at fighting him were in vain. He was too strong and she was too weak. He didn't stop or pull out despite her pleas and cries as he continued pounding his cock into her harshly. She weakly tried to push against his chest while feeling the way his cock rammed in and out of her squelching pussy.

The Marquis grabbed the hands that were attempting to push him and pinned them against the bed on each side of her head, rendering her helpless. She weakly struggled, but he ignored her and slammed his cock against her g-spot. His grip on her wrists was too tight and she was too weak to fight him.

Suddenly, the Marquis slammed hard and stopped deep within her. He groaned loudly as he pressed more into her. That's when she felt it. Yn cried out; her entire body shaking as he climaxed within her. His cock twitched and pulsed as he shot his seed into her womb. She felt the hot seed coat her womb and fill her like hot water filled a glass.

She cried out in despair as she felt his seed fill her completely. Her pussy spasmed around his cock as her body continued to convulse as she was still climaxing. She didn't know why she was still climaxing, but she felt like her entire body was on fire and she was filled with ecstasy.

"No!" she cried out, "No! Pull out! Pull out! Please!"

But that only spurred the Marquis on. He groaned again, this time releasing her wrists and gripping her hips tightly, pulling her deep against him as he emptied his hot seed deep within her womb. He grunted as he continued to come in her warm and tight pussy. He filled her pussy up to the brim and kept shooting into her.

She felt his hot cum fill her pussy, gushing into her and painting her womb white. The male finally stopped cumming after a few more shots within her. He pushed himself off her with his cock still firmly embedded within her pussy. He sat in between her legs and looked at the woman he had taken. He looked at her with a sinister and satisfied smile.

She turned her head away from him and felt tears building up in her eyes. She clenched her pussy tightly around his cock in an attempt to get him to pull out. But the Marquis gripped her thighs tightly, still embedded deeply in her pussy, keeping her legs spread. It's like he was keeping his cum inside her.

He finally pulled out after a long time with a loud wet noise, leaving her gaping pussy open and exposed. Her legs remained spread wide before him. He smirked as he took in the sight of her trembling pussy, still twitching gently. Soon enough, his sperm dribbled out of her hole. Her pussy and her inner thighs were coated with blood since he had plucked her virginity. Her juices were also dripping out of her used pussy, a mixture of hers and his seed.

Yn trembled, her body still convulsing lightly as she was still coming down from her climax. She glanced to see that the Frenchman was still gazing at her abused pussy and she looked away, feeling humiliated enough. She did not see that the Marquis was stroking his drenched cock.

She looked to the side, looking at a window that revealed how dark it was outside. She began to wonder what time it was and remembered about Sydney. She thought about that little girl being taken care of by Barbara at the moment and she should come home by then.

She was about to get up and search for her dress when the Marquis suddenly turned her around in bed. She was on her stomach when she made a noise of confusion. The man behind then mounted on her thighs, leaned on her ear, and said huskily, "We are not done yet."

She gasped as she felt his warm flesh pressed up against her rear, feeling his hot cock head pushing against her pussy again. He was still hard as he pushed his cock head against her womanhood. She moaned in protest and tried to move away.

He managed to enter her wet and warm pussy again before he plunged in deep. Yn tried to push herself up with her arms but he leaned into her, holding her down with his body weight. The Marquis moved to her ear and whispered, "I'm not satisfied with you yet."

He simply held her down by the hips and started to thrust into her wet pussy. The mix of his semen and her juices served as a lubricant for his cock and thus creating squelching noises each time he thrust in.

He continued to pound into her as he placed his hands on her waist, controlling her movements to his liking again as he fucked her. He grunted in satisfaction, his balls slapping against her cum-filled pussy as he used her.

Yn, on the other hand, could only lie there helplessly, her eyes closed as she tried to cope with the pleasure and the pain. She was still feeling slightly sensitive from her last orgasm and his large cock was continuing to inch into her sore pussy. She gasped a few times as he continued to slam into her, bending her body over the bed.

She cried out and groaned as he continued to thrust into her helpless and abused pussy. She could feel his cock slam against her cervix and hit that sensitive area within her body. The semen inside her was sloshing around his invasive cock. Her pussy was sore, but somehow the Marquis was still able to build up an orgasm for her.

The Marquis suddenly stopped and pulled out completely. Yn was about to look over her shoulder when he grasped her hips and lifted it up with his strength until her knees held themselves on the bed. Yn was left in the position where his upper body fully rested upon the sheet while her butt was raised in the air.

The man behind her then held her hips and rammed his cock back inside. Yn gasped from the intrusion as she felt his balls slapping against her again. He started ramming himself into her with deep and fast thrusts and she could feel his cock pushing against her cum-filled womb with each thrust. She felt her cunt stretch to the limit as his large cock kept slamming into her.

Her moans and his grunts ricocheted off the walls of the room, punctuated by the wet squelching of their juices and the slapping sound of his flesh against hers. His deep and fast thrusts reverberated through her body, every movement sending pleasure and pain mixed together in a potent cocktail. There were no pauses, just an unstoppable rhythm as she felt herself being pushed ever closer to the edge as he fucked and used her like she was his cum-dumpster.

She could feel his cock slam against her cervix repeatedly again and it wasn't even a minute when she felt an orgasm building up in her pussy. She cried out in pleasure and tried to escape but the Marquis held her down tightly.

"No! P-Please! No!" she screamed as she was pinned to the bed by one of his hands on her back.

The Marquis groaned and pounded into her again and again as he felt her pussy tighten around his cock. Yn screamed into the sheets as another orgasm exploded from her bottom, causing her to tremble violently beneath him. Her pussy lips were spread open due to the deep thrusts and she could feel her juices squirting out, drenching his cock and crotch.

Her orgasm seemed to spur him on as he thrust even harder. He finally let out a loud groan and came again as he continued to thrust into her, albeit this time sloppily. His cock was pulsing inside her with his orgasm as he delivered a few final thrusts into her vagina. His cum flooded her even more than before as most of his semen from the previous round was still inside her.

The Marquis continued to pin her on the bed until they were both spent and exhausted. Soon enough, he pulled out of her flooded pussy and she felt a gush of cum flowing from her abused pussy. She could feel it running down her thighs and for her, it felt so sinful. She had never thought she would lose her virginity like this - so violent yet pleasurable.

Feeling utterly exhausted, her knees collapsed and she dropped her hips onto the bed, the motion caused the juices inside her to spill more onto her inner thigh and bedsheet. That's when she felt hands pulling her. The Marquis, who was lying on the bed next to her, grabbed her closer to his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist and her head was tucked under his chin. The both of them were facing one another and both were completely worn out and sleepy.

"Vincent..."

Yn forced her eyes open, staring at the skin on his neck, and wondered what he meant by that.

As if sensing her bewilderment despite not looking at her face, he drawled out more with his eyes closed, "Vincent Bisset de Gramont... my name..."

Yn did not respond as she stared ahead into space. She wanted nothing more than to get up and run off, but after having two rounds of being fucked like a breeding toy, she also wanted to sleep right then and there. She was still feeling the effects of her multiple orgasms and she wondered if she'll ever be able to walk again.

But, she thought: If the Marquis honor her words and give her 50 thousand dollars as promised, then she would have more than enough money to pay for her mother's hospital treatments. The remaining money would be saved and used for her family's future.

She could finally quit her job at the casino after this and never have to lay eyes on the Marquis again.

PREV : Chapter 03

NEXT : Chapter 05

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